Posts Tagged ‘York’

Flowers for Sophie: Doberwoman / Tiny Forehead / Courtesan / Machiner / Social Youth Cult / Westenra – The Fulford Arms, York, 15th August 2026

Posted: 16 August 2026 in Previews and Editorial, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Well, this certainly wasn’t the introduction I’d been plotting previously. And it’s almost certainly not the review anyone was expecting – least of all myself. But I started Aural Aggravation specifically to create a platform for more in-depth, essay-like pieces which ventured into topics around the music, rather than simply giving cut-and-dried star-rating reviews in a hundred and fifty words or fewer. Bucking the trend? That was essentially the point. And so here we are.

I’d had a great time. I’d seen some outstanding live music, and spent time with friends and acquaintances – and perfect strangers, and short dark ones – united in an appreciation of music and (sub)culture. I was walking home over the bridge less than ten minutes from my house – a busy spot at any time, even at night – in what’s generally considered the ‘nice’ end of York, holding a black plastic rose I’d been handed towards the end of the night, when suddenly my ear prick up: “carrying a rose an’ shit… is it an ‘ee?” Then, incredulously, “Yeah, it’s an ‘ee,”. A couple of drunk blokes are rasping loudly between themselves as they sit on the bridge in the dark. Yes, I’m an ‘ee. A fifty-year-old ‘ee, white, bald, and wearing a battered Stetson, just minding my own business. And yet, for some reason, they found it necessary to comment. Why?

In my head, I’m whispering ‘cunts, cunts, cunts’ to myself, but strangely enough, never once in all of my fifty years have I felt the need to pass comment, and certainly not to shout out some shit, at a random stranger. And yet, since the age of fifteen, when I ‘turned goth’, I’ve been subjected to street heckles – or, let’s call it what it is – verbal abuse by strangers for simply walking down the street. A lot of it comes in the form of unintelligible yells from passing white vans. The first I distinctly remember – perhaps being one of the first instances – was some bloke yelling out of a van, “St. John’s is that way!” I used to live just outside Lincoln, close to St John’s Hospital, which was at one time the largest mental institution in the country, before the Conservatives introduced ‘care in the community’ (a topic which is an essay in itself). I get a lot of people doing Michael Jackson impressions at me – because, y’know, he was a bald white bloke who wore a Stetson… ohhh. Of course. A hat and shades. I must be Michal fucking Jackson. Easy mistake to make.

But here are two things I feel I must note. The first is, that apart from the time some drunk female racegoers passed me making stage whispers of “It’s Pitbull!” (I wasn’t wearing my hat, and being a bald bloke in shades, hey, it must be Pitbull, because there are no other bald guys in shades in the summer), it’s always – ALWAYS – men. The second its that I simply cannot grasp the way people are seemingly incapable of having a thought without verbalising it, and at volume, even if not with the intention of intimidation or harassment. But seemingly the Catchphrase hook of ‘say what you see’ is a rule to live by for far too many boneheads.

Doberwoman, tonight’s first act, summarises this shit most succinctly, when she observes that prejudice is the product of fear (and perhaps self-hatred). Racism stems first and foremost from a fear which comes from a lack of understanding of other cultures. The most rabid homophobes seem to be mostly afraid of their own homosexual tendencies (take a moment to reflect on Andrew Tate’s absurd assertion that any man who sleeps with women is gay), and it’s clear that people who feel compelled to harass anyone who’s even vaguely alternative are likely scared because they simply can’t comprehend anything that isn’t their own tiny mainstream sphere, but more than that, they’re afraid because they see either an element of themselves, or the potential for them to become that thing, of crossing into that otherness.

Doberwoman, incidentally, is great, getting things going early doors (really early, as in 4pm early) with an energetic and entertaining set of lo-fi electropop with some strong feminist messaging. In a nutshell, she’s a one-woman Soft Cell. The vocals being up in the mix allows her powerful lyrics to be heard with clarity.

DSC04282DSC04293

Doberwoman

The strong messaging is a leading reason why we’re here, and it’s worth taking a moment to reflect on this, particularly in context of the experience I recounted of my walk home. I would say it didn’t bother me, since I’m largely immune to it after thirty-five years of it, and the grief I get is fairly low-level in the scheme of things. But of course, whatever my level of immunity, I did bother me. The guys griefing me will have forgotten they even saw me two minutes later. This isn’t about me, but then, in a way, it is. The Sophie Lancaster Foundation exists to educate on the importance of inclusivity, to stimulate conversations about prejudice, and to celebrate difference, and tonight’s event is a fundraiser for the foundation, which was founded after Sophie and her boyfriend were attacked by a gang of five boys in a park in 2007. Sophie lost her life as the result of this attack. The provocation? She dressed alternatively. Although Sophie was labelled a ‘goth’ by the media, this feels both misrepresentative, and reductive (and again, that’s probably another essay), but the thing I will say on this matter is that the goth subculture may have its fair share of posers and musical gatekeepers, but the general ethos of this broad subculture is to live and let live. You won’t find goths knifing one another or brawling in the streets – or at gigs.

Following Doberwoman is Tiny Forehead. Their set could be summarised as ‘started weird, and then the guitarist removed his leg’. They’re a Nottingham six-piece who are visually discombobulating. None of them look like they belong to the same band, and the front man is wearing a chequered full-face balaclava he can’t see out of, which means he has some struggles with the mic stand. And the lack of a face is something I find quite disconcerting – it’s mostly surreal, but also taps into something deeper and more fearful. But he disarms those fears with some affable banter and some spectacularly awful jokes, which he hoots away to, and meanwhile, they serve up some solid 80s alternative rock, and the dual vocals work an absolute treat. They’re by absolutely no means goth in the conventional sense, but they have some songs about vampires, and their entire vibe is very much a celebration of non-norminess. They bring some tidy grooves, too. ‘Keep Dialling’ is a bit All About Eve, only with some trancy synths spun into the mix, while ‘Pogos Wood’ is more uptempo dream pop, and it’s during this that the guitarist removes his artificial leg and hops around at the finale. Zany, unpredictable, and with some solid tunes, they’re a lot of fun.

DSC04300DSC04304DSC04340

Courtesan are the first truly goth-sounding act of the night: their second song sounds very like Skeletal Family’s ‘She Cries Alone’ in the guitar parts in the verse, and this is very much the space they occupy musically – northern goth circa 83/4. The third song is called Incubus Succubus, introduced as a song about ‘ghosts that shag’. Ignore the backwards baseball caps on the drummer and the bassist (who looks a bit like Fred Durst): these guys are proper early goth. New song ‘Sister Crow’ has heavy hints of mid-80s Damned. They close with a cover of Nancy Boy. It’s a bit stodgy, but goes down a storm, and deservedly so.

DSC04409

Courtesan

This show is well-timed for Machiner, who released their album just over a week ago. The last time I saw them, we were sharing a bill in a cemetery chapel in York, and while tonight’s venue may be less dramatic, their brand of sweeping shoegaze is no less captivating. The drum machine is a little quiet to begin with, as is singer Paul’s guitar, but the mix is soon sorted, and they’re in the zone. The melancholic ‘The Sound of Disappearing’ lands mid-set, which is a heady blend of neo-prog and post rock, with hints of Oceansize, and Vessels but with a vocals. The slow-burning album opener, ‘Silent Running’ arrives as the penultimate song of the set, where dripping synths and layered guitar drift together. They definitely won themselves some new fans tonight.

DSC04414DSC04421DSC04453

Machiner

It’s here that my notes start getting briefer; we’re four bands and four pints in, and it’s getting warm. But more than this, Social Youth Cult are nothing short of mind-blowing, and I find I’m completely gripped. The singer channels Peter Murphy and Ian Curtis in equal measures. Wearing high-waisted boot-cut jeans and a brocade shirt, he’s as white as a sheet and thin as a lath. He’s got the looks and the moves as well as the voice. And hell, yes, he’s got the voice, with all the brooding, the drama, the dynamics. He brings the theatrical, art rock style, and he absolutely fucking owns it. Peter Hook style basslines boom out atop soaring guitar parts, which often switch to a more scratchy, textural approach. At the back, there’s a minimal kit, from which emanates heavy, tom-led drumming. ‘The Lighthouse’ comes with hints of ‘Dark Entries’ and explosive energy. These guys need to sort a double-header tour with Mouth Ulcers as the ultimate new goth showcase. They are an absolute must-see.

DSC04479DSC04492DSC04507DSC04522

Social Youth Cult

Westenra are playing their latest album, Burn Me Once, in its entirety for the first time. This is a bold move. But they’re a bold band, and the album, as I observed in my review, is well-paced and nicely balanced, and as such, flows well in a live setting. Opener ‘Ghosts in the Machine’ highlights the busy bassline and Luci leaps around and comes on like Siouxsie with dance moves. Bassist Dominique is an imposing presence, but with heels which are practically stilts, Luci really dominates the stage, her voice even stronger as her presence. And despite struggling for breath and sputtering between songs due to the smoke from the previous acts, she doesn’t miss a note, and remains as energetic while performing throughout. Guitarist Karl could be reasonably as a generic goth guitarist, being middle-aged and sporting a hat, but that would be to severely diminish his understated contribution here.

DSC04566DSC04616DSC04636

Westenra

The slower ‘Hold Me Close’ is epic and operatic, so hardly offers the kind of respite the mid-set slowie bands regain their breath during. In fact, this is a set which keeps the energy and high throughout, and it’s without doubt that this is the reason they’ve made swift progress in establishing their place on the scene. ‘Stuck in a Cage’ gets its first live airing, and rocks solidly, before ‘Regret’ brings even heftier riffage and thick, low-end bass tones.

The main set and the (self-imposed) pressure of performing the album out of the way, they get to cut by loose opening encore with ‘Trinity’, and they close with their gothed-up take on Iron Maiden’s ‘The Number of the Beast’.

Not only was there not a duff band on the bill, but everything about this was magnificent – even the cheesy compering. The alternative scene is effervescent, and abrim with exciting new acts. And the hassle on way home notwithstanding, it was as close to perfect as a night gets.

Miško Boba / Hella Bore / Tame the Savage / Onion Terror – Micklegate Social, York, 14th August 2026

Posted: 15 August 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

A week ago, buying a ticket to see four metal bands for a tenner in a tiny basement venue seemed like a good idea. But then yet another heatwave happened, and arriving at the Mickelgate Social – something of a hipster bar just feet inside the city walls on what used to the York’s most notorious street for bars and nightclubs frequented by stag and hen dos and townies and other twats, which has gone rather more upmarket in recent years – damp and uncomfortable, I find myself questioning my sanity. The doors are 7:30, and I arrive some time after, but Tame The Savage are still soundchecking at 7:45 and Onion Terror are still to go. Provided I don’t collapse from heat exhaustion, I assume things can only improve. And, for the most part, they do.

Onion Terror are a duo: guitar, vocals, and drums and other backing off a phone. The guitarist is playing through a 5-watt practice amp that feeds back a lot, while the vocalist charges and leans and squats, alternately bellowing and growling, while sporting a pint balaclava. They clearly don’t intend to be taken seriously, but they are seriously good fun. Their eleven-minute set is a mash of all kinds of metal – primarily some mangled kind of grindcore, but with purposefully cheap-sounding drums and samples galore – consisting mostly vocal snippets about onions. It’s loud and it’s messy and makes for a great start to the night.

DSC04089DSC04118

Onion Terror

Tame the Savage trade in filthy punk, somewhat in the vein of Anti-Nowhere League. But what sets them apart from your meat-and-potatoes punk is the way the bass – played by the lead vocalist – carries the most weight, doing a lot of work on the upper half of the fretboard and the higher strings, and essentially playing it like a lead guitar, with a lot of mid and some distortion. But then, when he does drop to the lower octaves on the bottom strings, the impact is immense, a thick, rumbling groove melding with the hefty percussion. And the drummer looks like he’s having the time of his life.

DSC04146DSC04156

Tame the Save

Hella Bore’s bassist, wearing a facemask, baseball cap, and hoodie with the hood up – the dude must have been liquid inside that getup – approached me just before their set and requested no photos, so you’ll have to imagine him, and the singer, a stocky, shaven-headed guy with a waxed moustache, in a wifebeater and too-tight cutoff blue jeans shorts. Hmm. Perhaps this was why they didn’t want photos. The drummer, bearded and with plaited pigtails (when he removes the knitted balaclava with floppy rabbit ears) makes a nice addition to the visual. I’d like to report that they sound better than they look, and they do – although it’s marginal. It’s not that they can’t play: they evidently can. But what they play is like a Nu-metal Rage Against the Machine with Al Jorgensen’s vocals roaring over the top. The material is pretty leaden, the lyrics aren’t great and overall… It’s understandable why a large chunk of the audience take the opportunity to get some air during their set.

In contrast, Miško Boba have both their look and sound absolutely nailed, and just keep on getting better. They’re a cohesive unit, and each member brings something specific, but it’s in the way they come together which is where their strength lies. During the slow, slugging riff sections, they all bang heads in perfect union, the gut-churning five-string bass underpinning the twin guitar assault. At the back, Leviathan’s powerhouse drumming very much drives everything along, but it’s apparent that they all recognise that in Kanopa they have a formidable and compelling front woman. Visually, she’s impressive, a classic horror scene, a walking gorefest, appearing to have had her eyes torn out, and her arms are streaked with sanguine fluid. But this is nothing compared to the vocal performance, which is nothing short of spine-quivering, blood-curdling, demonic roar, a desperate purgatorial scream.

DSC04195DSC04216DSC04267

Miško Boba

They just get heavier and more fierce as the set progresses, and seem to grow in confidence as well as intensity. The set may only feature seven songs, but it makes for a truly obliterative forty-five minutes, and any longer you’d probably feel your skull start to cave in. Tonight’s performance, which is pretty big on new material, is something else, and exemplifies why they deserve to be on a label, and to have PR pushing for their (inter)national exposure. This is a band who are taking black metal – and Lithuanian metal – to a place which warrants appreciation. If you want your metal black, you’ll find none more black than Miško Boba .

Light of Eternity / Dollface Reunion – The Crescent, York, 9th August 2026

Posted: 11 August 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Just over a year ago, York had the fortune to host the first ever live show of Light of Eternity, the new band led – from the back – by drumming titan Paul Ferguson, founding member of Killing Joke, who can also boast Warrior Soul and Murder Inc on his resumé. And now, we also have the honour of being the end point of this year’s UK tour. Only a few days ago, they played the legendary punk festival that is Rebellion, and since that first performance in front of around 150 people, they’ve toured as the support for Ministry, too. We’ll come to just how much they’ve evolved since that debut shortly.

It’s not exactly rammed tonight, particularly early doors – and they are early doors, being at 6:30 and the first act on at 7 – probably because a fair few are still at Rebellion and Bloodstock only finished last night, and consequently, Dollface Reunion start their set to a very sparsely populated room. If they’re disappointed by this, they don’t show it. Having caught them in Leeds supporting Spear of Destiny in May my enthusiasm for seeing them again so soon was only middling. I was beginning to have flashbacks to the two to three-month spell in 2000 / 2001 when I saw Sona Fariq supporting pretty much every fucking band I went to see, not least of all twice in a week when I saw The Sisters of Mercy in Glasgow and then Nottingham. And they were abysmal every single fucking time. It turns out that I simply hadn’t been in the mood for Dollface Reunion when I saw them last time, and they likely suffered from having been squeezed on as late additions before Cheeks, who were nothing short of a revelation.

DSC03905DSC03892DSC03909

Dollface Reunion

Reassessing them tonight, I appreciated them a whole lot more. As the name suggests, they’re a reunited version of 90s alt rock act Dollface, and as such, their set is largely culled from their sole album release, 1995’s Giant. Their third song, ‘Rockstars’, which was a single back in ’94, bears a lead guitar line reminiscent of The Cult, and they most definitely rock. ‘Spaceship’ is announced as ‘a song about a spaceship’, and late on, ‘Metropolis’ storms home as a stomper that sit between New Model Army and The Levellers. Only much better than The Levellers.

On the eve of this brief tour, Light of Eternity announced the addition of James OZ Bowey on bass. This means that Fred Schreck no longer has to multitask with covering bass and vocal duties, and it does make a difference, not least of all visually. Instead of being rooted to the spot (not that there was space to move at The Fulford Arms: Ferguson’s kit pretty much occupied the whole stage), he’s got the freedom to move, not just about the stage, but with arm gestures – he’s actually pretty expressive on that front – making for a much more visual performance overall. I’d even go s far as to say that, liberated from the bass, he’s quite a compelling front man.

DSC03922DSC03924

Light of Eternity

Bowey has found his groove straight away, and they are so tight, his thick bass sound underpinning Pauly Williams’ thick, churning riffs. The guitar sound is bright but dense. Predictably, the drumming is immense. And casting my mind back to that first show, Ferguson started the set a little loose, proving that even the most seasoned musicians sometimes need some time to bed into something new. This time around… everything is nailed down tight form the first beat. All the rehearsals in the world are no substitute for time spent on stage, and the benefit of the road miles these guys have put in this last year is evident from the off. It’s true that the Killing Joke comparisons will forever stay with them, not just on account of Ferguson, but Williams’ taut, compressed guitar sound – but Schreck’s vocals d bring something different, and the chug and churn is often closer to the sound of Murder Inc., and this is nowhere more perfectly evidenced than on ‘Worlds Collide’.

DSC03929DSC03979

Light of Eternity

And to top it, they’ve managed to write some new material, too. Last time around, they played the twelve songs they had – the two EPs and a further EP’s worth – and were done. Tonight, we get new material, and launching the final third of the twelve song set, new song ‘Sycophant’ rocks particularly hard and they really seem to step thing up from hereon in.

The set list still only shows twelve songs, though, and expectations for an encore are slim – but they do indeed return, and kick off a three-song encore with a throbbing rendition of ‘Dark Hope’. They slow things with the atmospheric ‘Nebula’, and the fact that there are such solid cuts from the first two EPs that they can keep in reserve from a main set that fills an hour and a quarter is in itself impressive. They conclude with ‘Explode’ – which still sounds like a blend of Ministry’s ‘N.W.O’ and Therapy? circa 1994, in the best possible way – to my ears. It kicks ass, too.

DSC03945DSC04022

Light of Eternity

Having seen Killing Joke in venues closer to 2,000 in capacity, and Murder Inc supporting The Sisters of Mercy at Birmingham NEC (a show which is featured on the second disc of the reissue of their eponymous album, under the title Locate, Subvert, Terminate), to witness this band at such close proximity – The Crescent has a capacity of 350) is nothing short of mind-blowing, and while writing up my (painfully sparse) notes, I learn that there are people in the audience who have travelled from Sweden for this. it’s not hard to understand why. These guys are living legends – but despite a major-league support slot, playing 1,500 capacity spaces, they’re still building things up from the bottom in grassroots venues. This is positively heroic. And as for tonight’s set… there simply aren’t enough superlatives.

Pop Goes Metal / Dismiss / Too Late for Gods – The Fulford Arms, York, 26th July 2026

Posted: 27 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Did I ever mention how much I fucking hate ABBA? No? Well, I really, really fucking hate ABBA, and pretty much all covers of ABBA songs too, with the exception of The Sisters of Mercy’s cover of ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ which made the set a few times in 1984 just after Wayne Hussey joined. To provide a measure of just how much I fucking hate ABBA, just after university, my then girlfriend and I got a flat, and took her best mate on as a lodger. She loved ABBA. So much so that ABBA Gold was pretty much, the only CD she owned. And she played it all the time. That’s no exaggeration. We’re talking legitimate grounds for eviction or even murder here. So when I upgraded my stereo, instead of selling the old one – which would have fetched a good hundred and fifty quid, which was some wedge back in ’98 – I gave it to her for her room on the proviso that she would never play ABBA in the living room ever again. The rationale for this anecdote will make sense later on.

Meanwhile, when I took this gig on, I hadn’t appreciated that the band I was here for – Dismiss – were only the support, and it blows my mind that a band with some kind of following, however moderate here, would come from Greece to support a local covers band in York. We’ll come back to this presently, too.

My introduction to Too Late for Gods was a pub gig on the other side of town, and my reaction was very much mixed. So, seeing them on a proper stage, through a full PA, and without the element of surprise means I’m in a better position to properly assess their skills.

Their first song is a straight up post-hardcore metal rager, the five-string bass bringing significant depth and power. It’s the grunge leanings which shine through during the next couple of songs, and it’s very soon apparent what a difference a decent mix can make to how songs come across. There are some meh punk pop / emo cuts mid-set, but they’re performed with guts and gusto, which carries them. Their drummer is a solid asset, too, a strong player with a big personality, bringing dynamics and showmanship, and very much driving the band. The penultimate song of the set has a hint of Placebo and a strong hook. They look comfortable in this setting, and give the impression that they would deliver in significantly larger venues, too.

DSC03140DSC03172

Too Late for Gods

I’m here for Dismiss, and woah! They are all the energy straight out of the traps. My notes are scant: I’m too busy trying to catch my breath. They play hard rock with a punk edge, and they bring the fire, and what’s more, they’re absolutely relentless, powering through fifteen original songs in forty minutes (the setlist indicates that they dropped two from the planned set, too), but it feels like about twenty whiplash-inducing minutes, as they the songs back-to-back. Their singer is a blur of peroxide, the bassist is a spike-studded energy blast, and they make a strong case for the prosecution in the case that women rock harder than men. And if we’re doing touchstones and references, Lita Ford and The Plasmatics and Amyl and the Sniffers are where we’re at. They absolutely fucking slay. You wouldn’t want to go on after them, especially as, judging by the T-shirts on display, a good number of the punters are here for them. And deservedly. They absolutely play their arses off and are nothing short of phenomenal. Not only band of the night, but one of the highlights of the year to date.

DSC03218DSC03222DSC03265DSC03288

Dismiss

But suddenly, just as Pop Goes Metal take to the stage, the place is rammed from the front to the back. I guess this is telling. Do we talk about covers bands? Should we contemplate guilty pleasures? I wrote about covers bands just the other night – but can’t help but feel differently about covers bands playing village pubs as background, and covers bands playing ‘proper’ venues and headlining over bands playing sets of original material. Like Natalie Imbruglia, I’m torn. It’s great that people are coming out to small venues and supporting live music. But…

I’ve personally never been embarrassed by my appreciation of pop tunes, and I don’t just mean the 80s stuff I grew up with, like Duran Duran and A-Ha. A good tune is a good tune, irrespective of genre. As such, I’m personally comfortable with the fact that Pop Goes Metal start strong with a thunking Nu-metal take on Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’. However, am I comfortable with the principle of what is, in essence, a novelty covers act? While perhaps not as corny as, say, Elvana or Tragedy (the metal Bee gees tribute), they certainly sit within that bracket.

Objectively, Pop Goes Metal do a great job of delivering what they pitch. They bring a brace of chunky guitars melded to a chunky rhythm section, and Emz gives us gutsy vocals, with rasp and power. Britney’s ‘Toxic’ is a solid choice at the front end of the set and works over the more obvious choice of Britney tunes in terms of their sonic and stylistic range. The Dua Lipa and Billie Eilish songs are beyond my ken, but they go down well.

New addition to the set, ‘Umbrella’ is only so-so, and while Emz reads the lyrics from her phone, the song slides into an extended fretwanking solo. Their interpretation of Mark Ronson’s ‘Uptown Funk’ sounds too much like ‘Free Range’ by The Fall crossed with ‘Black Betty’ to be entirely successful, and while ‘Let Me Entertain You’ benefits from a huge chugging break, it’s still a shit song. ‘Toca’s Miracle’ translates from a dance-pop banger to a thunderous disco metal banger, and it would be curmudgeonly not to acknowledge a job well done there.

DSC03365DSC03413DSC03427

Pop Goes Metal

The audience is particularly hyped and vocal, and increasingly so as the night progresses. Emz’s voice starts to go with five songs to go, and by the end she can barely croak between songs, but still belts ‘em out full lungs. ‘Shake it Off’ not only proves I’ve never knowingly heard a song by Taylor Swift, but that perhaps I’m not entirely the target demographic. ‘Sk8er Boi’ comes in pretty much untouched, and Anastacia’s ‘Left Outside Alone’ is a strong tune that it would be hard to go wrong with, and credit where it’s due, they do it justice. And then it’s onto ending on ‘Mama Mia’… just no. No no no no. They’ve crossed the line.

Blasphemer, Exorcism, Drior, Damage Control – The Fulford Arms, York, 16th July 2026

Posted: 19 July 2026 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
0

The Fulford Arms, York, 16th July 2026

Christopher Nosnibor

The Fulford Arms is great for many reasons, but one is the diversity of the shows it hosts. It’s also something of a haven for metal, with a couple of promoters putting on solid lineups of four bands for a tenner or so. The popularity of metal in recent years – particularly of more extreme persuasions – may well be a sign of the times, and I’ve written previously on the uplifting, even euphoric, qualities of a decent metal gig, and it very much does seem like a fair few here tonight are simply wanting to cut loose and have a blast while being blasted by dark sonic forces.

First up, Damage Control – not the international electroindustrial quartet signed to Metropolis Records, but a York-based three-piece, whose guitarist is a particularly lanky sod. Their set consists of back-to-back, nonstop, fast, raging thrash. The energy inspires some early two-stepping. mostly by one immensely tall bastard with no spatial awareness slam dancing himself. I know I’m on the shorter side, and also, at the age of fifty qualify as an old bugger, but fuck me, how are kids today so fucking massive? Anyway. It makes for a good start to the night.

DSC02782DSC02790DSC02812

Damage Control

Drior are from Nottingham and making their York debut. Their thing is old school death metal with titles like ‘Living Cadaver’. They’re appearance is unprepossessing, simply an assemblage of shorts and T-shirts, but what they do is slow, dark, heavy, and yes, I’ll say it – crushing. The drummer is the main vocalist and growls with a look of malevolence in his eyes. The drumming itself is perhaps a shade loose given its dominance, but the trio pack a commendable sonic density.

DSC02839DSC02848

Driot

As is often the case with lineups like this, there’s a step up with every band – although not in the same way as it was in the 90s, when the headliners weren’t only given a superior mix but about 30% additional volume. This very much did used to happen, incidentally, at the same time the supports would often have to pay to play, too. The music industry has found new ways to shaft emerging artists since, but anyone who thinks there was some golden age is misinformed or misremembering. By the same token, band have to be so much tighter and more professional now. I’ll park that here for another time, and instead focus on the fact that Exorcism are all out fury from the offset. And they’re relentless. And loud. Perfect.

 DSC02854DSC02889

Exorcism

Blasphemer are worthy headliners. They bring the thickest, densest, filthiest racket, churned out via a bristling host of spiky guitars – and their drummer can drum alright. The venue is far from packed, and it seems that Damage Control and their mates have had to go home, but given that it’s the night after England’s World Cup defeat and the hands of Argentina (again) and it’s a Thursday after the students have gone home, there’s still a fair crowd getting down to these guys.

DSC02911DSC02942DSC02967

Blasphemer

Blasphemer are a blast, with full on riffs from start to finish. There are moments that stall me and me gnaw on some questions. They announce a song called ‘Grooming Gang’, and as the lyrics are impenetrable, I’m left to ponder their position. Obviously, I hope they’re not racists, just as I hope they’re not brash metal edgelords, too, as they also play a sample of the voicemail message left by John Samuel Humble, also known as Wearside Jack, who submitted hoax calls and under the guise of The Yorkshire Ripper. ‘I have the greatest respect for you, George..’ It feels rather less exciting or edgy here in 2026 than it did in 1986. Call me sensitive if you like. Still, they kick arse and are nothing short of phenomenal to watch, and are exactly what you need from a midweek metal bill.

Soma Crew / How Buildings Fail / Speed Readers – The Golden Ball, York, 17 July 2026

Posted: 18 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s been a while since I went to ‘bands in the bar’ kind of thing. Although the Horsemusic nights are essentially bands in a bar, it’s a large space and they play on a raised area at the far end of a rectangular room, meaning there’s a sense of separation (in addition to the handrail which runs across it). For many years, there would be acoustic soloists and duos – nearly always playing variations on the blues – in the corner of every other bar, and it was kinda fun for a while, but got a bit samey rather fast. Still, the point is that there’s something less formal about the ‘bands in a bar’ setting. The Golden Ball, consistently in the Good Beer Guide, is a community owned and run pub with multiple rooms (some more like nooks or snugs), where they host quizzes, spoken word and open mic nights and the like, plus decent size beer garden.

It might be Soma Crew lite tonight, paired down to minimal gear, with no cymbals and fewer pedals, but it’s still a lot of pedals, and by the time you’ve got a PA, amps and pedals for two guitarists and a bass, plus drum kit and another amp and mountain of electronic equipment for How Buildings Fail, plus a massive – and truly essential – thermostatically-controlled fan, seating, and space in general is very much at a premium. More than twenty people and it’s pretty cosy, to put it mildly.

David Mudie playing a solo Speedreaders set is the closest to truly stripped-back as it gets, with just him and a clean-sounding guitar and a couple of pedals. Played this way, it accentuates the sad, emotional nuisance of the downtempo slowcore songs, and he seems unusually relaxed and even borderline chatty by his standards.

DSC02994

Speedreaders

It sets the tone for the night: the intimacy of the space is a great unifier, and the warmth of the atmosphere isn’t just heatwave and humidity.

Simon – aka How Buildings Fail – seems genuinely quite overwhelmed by the positive response to his performance, each song received with enthusiastic applause. He soaked the small room with low end feedback as he drawled monologues reminiscent of The Fall – the first track in particular seems to lean on ‘Smile’, and the more uptempo (house) pieces rattle along, propelled by a primitive drum machine. Electronica with live guitar, it’s gloriously ramshackle and old-school in every way, from the scratchy guitar to the, we, scratchy electronics. And people are amazed. This is telling: he runs the York EMOM (Electronic Music Open Mic) night – it’s part of a now (inter)national network of events which gives a safe space for all the nerds and oddballs to perform (I say this in the most positive sense as a regular myself), and the York one in particular seems to cultivate a culture of experimentalism, left-field, ambient, noisy, and downright weird shit, and it’s brilliant. But it is a bubble, and maybe not all of the EMOM participants have the same potential beyond the bubble. But How Buildings Fail balances quirky post-punk with just enough catchiness to appeal to a broader audience, and to see how he’s received out in the wild is a joy for me, and clearly, a revelation for those unfamiliar, which is a fair few of those in tonight.

DSC03002DSC03006

How Buildings Fail

Soma Crew might well be the band I’ve seen and covered the most since I started out with Aural Aggravation a decade ago, and I’d seen them a fair few times before that, too. They are, definitively, mainstays of the scene, and have landed some high-profile support slots for visiting bands (notably The Fall at Fibbers in 2016) can be depended on for three things: 1) a different lineup nearly every time 2) drummer Nick wearing his Sin City Rockers T-shirt 3) they’ll always play counterintuitively and start with the most hesitant-sounding, ploddiest song on the setlist. It’s like a test, but also a warm-up as they feel their way towards the groove. It’s only after the drawling crawl that they strike their motorik stride, and once they do, they’re mining gold all the way to the finish. Chugging rhythm guitar, strolling bass, soaring lead and thudding minimal drums all settle in nicely. And then from nowhere, the sound erupts a few songs in. It’s not devastatingly loud, but in this confined space, the sound feels huge. On ‘Westworld’ they hold a single note – not even a chord – for about five minutes. Then the drums kick in and they hold it another eternity. It’s glorious. The band are looking relaxed and right in there, and I find myself completely immersed for a spell.

DSC03033DSC03044DSC03066

Soma Crew

And the thing is, it’s simply nice. It’s also more than that. There is a palpable sense of community here tonight, people stick around and chat afterwards, taking their time over pints purchased at last orders instead of the usual emptying minutes after the music finishes. Soma Crew probably rehearse in a bigger room than this, but it’s not about the numbers, it’s about the music, the vibe, the connection. None of the performers is new or up-and-coming, and won’t be offended by this observation. But there’s a further point here: so many of the up-and-comers find that life – work, mortgages, families – put paid to creative activity post-thirty. That all of tonight’s acts have remained artistically active is testament to a certain commitment to creativity. It may simply be stubbornness, but for that  stubbornness kudos is due, not only for keeping on, but keeping on doing good stuff. Better than good, in fact. Grassroots music events don’t come much more essential than this.

Utterly Fuzzled #12: Cowtown / Steatopygous / Chaffinch – Fulfordgate Club, York, 11th July 2026

Posted: 12 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Is it possible for there to be too much happening? This evening’s show was brought forward to a matinee start with 8pm finish in order to accommodate England’s World Cup quarter final match with its 10mp kick off. And while another tasty lineup headlined by Soma Crew on the other side of town got rescheduled, there’s also Super Furry Animals headlining one of the city’s biggest nights of the year at The Museum Gardens, and York Races. These are the challenges which can face promoters – and given other issues, like the first band on the original bill having to pull out because of being unable to make the earlier time slot, and Steatopygous having van issues that resulted in their having to cancel their Glasgow show the night before and having to be rescued from limbo in Leeds, it’s little short of a miracle that tonight even went ahead, let alone that people turned up.

It’s oft said that most music reviewers are failed musicians – usually by the kind of cynics who trot out lines like ‘if you can’t do, teach’, while themselves being incredibly self-satisfied by their having never attempted anything to fail at. And so it is that I find myself here as a last-minute replacement for The Pennydrops, who had to cancel, and while it’s true that the early doors meant the vast majority turned up after my set, I’d call getting to blast my racket without clearing the room a success.

Chaffinch may visually resemble York band Knitting Circle with an additional guitarist, but they’re very, very different indeed. And here, playing their fifth ever show, they cement the differences, not just sonically, but in terms of presentation, with all but the drummer playing the majority of the set in front of the stage, largely with their backs to the audience, with the jabbing twin guitars playing against and across one another to forge jolting No-Wave discord atop shuddering bass and powerful syncopated drumming. Their set is rapidly evolving, too, with a couple of new songs packed into their succinct and thrilling set.

DSC02510DSC02548DSC02575

Chaffinch

It’s here that I should once again highlight the eclecticism of Utterly Fuzzled lineups. As much as they do perhaps have a leaning towards indie, alternative rock, contemporary punk and post-punk, as Jo Dale explained to me in a recent interview, their fundamental criteria are ‘Absolutely no all-male line-ups! …We’re not genre specific, between us we have very wide musical tastes. Basically, if it excites us then we want to put it on, simple as that really’.

Even so, having seen Wiltshire four-piece Steatopygous (whose name, incidentally, means fat or prominent buttocks) advertised as ‘teenagers playing high-energy punk with a rather 90s riot grrrl feel’ and trading in ‘raging expressions of angered feminist teenage anguish did nothing to prepare me for the full-on aural assault that incorporates elements of hardcore and metalcore. With heavy, filthy bass dominating the dense sound, I’m at times reminded of the dirty noise rock of Fudge Tunnel, only rendered all the more terrifying by Poppy’s throat-rippingly demonic vocals. A high, crisp snare cuts through the sludge noise. But there’s subtlety and detail to their sonic palate, too. Mellow passages border on folk, with spoken word segments, showcasing some intelligent and articulate songwriting that’s so much more than mere rage. That said, their fiery and passionate final song, is a beast and whips up a mini-moshpit down the front, and that’s no small feat when it’s absolutely melting.

DSC02683DSC02642DSC02673

Steatopygous

So after extreme electronica, angular no-wave noise rock, and multi-faceted hardcore, Cowtown are perhaps the most overtly indie / alternative act of the night, but the thing about Cowtown is that, well, they’re uniquely Cowtown. Stalwarts of the Leeds scene in the same way as Bilge Pump (and, more recently, Objections, and Thank, for that matter), it’s the quirkiness that’s as integral to their appeal as their commitment to the DIY scene. Oh, and songs, of course. They have some songs. Good songs, too. But what are they about? Tonight, we get to find out about some of them. And so do they, seemingly for the first time, too. This is a significant part of the great and enduring appeal of Cowtown: they never fail to entertain, and as they race through the songs – grunge and punk at heart, but with pop keen leanings –with unbridled energy and effervescence, there’s a joy which radiates from the stage: they genuinely love doing what they do – and tonight, Hilary is loving the gong, a fixture of Utterly Fuzzled events used primarily to herald the commencement of each set, but here, used as punctuation between songs, and equally, just for the fun of it. And ultimately, fun is what they specialise in, bringing a near-miraculous evening to a most uplifting finish.

DSC02707DSC02730DSC02758

Cowtown

Old Corpse Road / Miško Boba / Evil Dungeon Crawler / Aubzagl – The Fulford Arms, York, 5th July 2026

Posted: 6 July 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Like many places, York may have lost a fair few venues through the years, but its live music scene is positively buzzing right now – especially when it comes to alternative music. And so it is that today sees day three of the tenth annual Swinefest – ostensibly a punk festival, but a broad church which offers a celebration of all kinds of weird, even down to The Masochists playing a set of covers of Rudimentary Peni songs – on Millennium Fields in the afternoon, while in the evening The Fulford Arms promises a smorgasbord of the darkest, most extreme metal. My daughter and I swing by the Fields for a bit in the afternoon, passing The Dark Horse coffee shop which has a (very loud) acoustic performer playing outside on the way, and catch The Sex Cripples’ set before hayfever drives us home. And then the evening, once the pollen has descended, I’m able to venture out safely without wanting to tear my eyes from their sockets. It’s bliss. Entering the dark venue, already murky with smoke, I find myself immediately at ease, and a pint of Vocation Heart & Soul is a winner.

DSC02161

The Sex Cripples (Because I have to document every act I see, regardless)

I’m here first and foremost for Miško Boba, a band so powerful live they’re probably addictive, but The Fully has a record of hosting some quality metal gigs, and this one, curated by Steelheart Promotions, proves to be one of them.

Oftentimes, black metal can be a bit hit and miss, and in particular the openers can be a bit rough and ready, but while Leeds’ Aubzagl – purveyors of ‘antifascist blackened metal’ may not quite have their image down, but their sound is definitely there, with their twin vocals –guttural growling from the guy who also plays keyboards, a higher, screaming howl from the flame-haired, mask-wearing bassist/lead vocal who’s centre stage, and quite a presence. One of the guitarists is wearing a PWEI T-shirt, which seems a bit incongruous, but apart from the aforementioned bassist, they’re all in shorts and T-shirts and thrash hard. It’s a meaty racket alright. There’s a cover towards the end of the set which they say is a 90s song that influenced them, and it takes me a bit to recognise that it’s an adaptation of Nirvana’s ‘Tourettes’. They play hard, and fast. Very fast, and have songs about killing nazis and hating billionaires. Easy targets, but YES! With 5-string bass and 7-string guitar, they’ve got density. They call up their former bassist, Luke, whose birthday it is (he’s defected to Miško Boba, but all seems amicable) , to join them, and as a 6-piece they’re absolutely phenomenal as they bring the set to a ferocious finale.

DSC02169DSC02217DSC02237

Aubzagl

Evil Dungeon Crawler is a name that sounds like it came from a black metal band name generator, but what does it matter when the logo is a classic spiky pile of sticks? They’re committed to the look alright, with all the hair, spikes and the most elaborate face paint, but how to they sound? Dark and deranged, and as if dragged from flaming purgatorial pits. Their set is a brutal, fierce, and relentlessly hellish half hour, delivered with captivating showmanship, through a whorl or twirling hair. So much hair… Would see again.

DSC02255DSC02269DSC02294

Evil Dungeon Crawler

There’s perhaps a bit much bass and not quite enough guitar to begin with, but Miško Boba are as fierce as ever. And as the set progressed, so the sound improved, and the detail of the interplay between the two guitars and the folkier aspects of their compositions came through. The atmospheric, melodic passages render the returning riffs even more powerful. And perhaps around halfway through he set, I realise just how devastatingly loud they are. And I say that having seen Sunn O))) earlier in the week. It’s a different kind of volume intensity, of course, and with more treble, but in a low-ceilinged small venue, their sonic impact is significant.

DSC02366DSC02376DSC02384

Miško Boba

There’s something ancient and earthy ingrained within their sound which sets them apart. It’s as though the black metal ferocity systems from prehistory, something primal, and every song manifests as a purging from the pain of past lives. They close the set with a new song about a massacre which took place outside Lithuanian capital. It’s the heaviest thing yet. Holy shit. If it’s in any way representative of the forthcoming album, then their best is very much yet to come.

Old Corpse Road boast two guitarists, one of whom looks like Uncle Fester exhumed, a bassist who resembles Giant Haystacks – also exhumed – and a hooded singer who doesn’t look too menacing despite the corpse paint. But shit, they’re heavy from the first bar. Sonically, it doesn’t get much darker or more black metal than this.

DSC02427DSC02464DSC02471

OId Corpse Road

Theirs it truly the sound of souls shrieking as they incinerate in hell. It hurts. The droning, sepulchral synths add layers of menace to a sonic assault which is relentless in its punishing ferocity. My notes are scant because I’m completely enthralled. When done half-arsed, black metal can be lame cosplay, but at its best, it’s nothing short of terrifying and utterly ruinous. Old Corpse Road are firmly in the latter category, and tonight’s set is gloriously brutal.

Papillon De Nuit / The Tengu Taiko Drummers – The National Centre for Early Music, York, 26 June 2026

Posted: 27 June 2026 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
0

Christopher Nosnibor

Stephen Kennedy has an outstanding sense of occasion. Having put on grand candlelight shows under the Gothic Moth banner in the Cemetery Chapel in York, there was no way the album launch for his latest project, Papillon De Nuit, was going to be some pub gig with a couple of local rock bands supporting. And so here we are in The National Centre for Early Music, a converted church with a high, twin-vaulted ceiling. It’s an appropriate setting in which to mark the release of Musetta, an ambitious album a year in the making involving a considerable number of collaborators. This also marks their first live performance, and features a necessarily expansive lineup, featuring ‘cello, piano, guitars, drums and percussion, soprano, orators and vocalist’.

It also happens to coincide with the hottest June day in history – the third consecutive record-breaker, no less, so it’s a relief to be seated and in an old church rather than standing in a sweaty bar – much as I love sweaty bars, the humidity of later has been such that we’d have had people passing out left, right, and centre in such a setting. It’s still plenty warm enough, thank you.

The doors open later than advertised, and seeing the amount of gear on stage – and the sheer size of those drums – it’s hardly surprising. Most bands travel by transit van, or even car. The Tengu Taiko Drummers have a removal van parked outside. Once we’re all in, the lights go down, and there is a hush of expectation. And we wait. It’s a good three suspenseful minutes before the ominous drone and trilling pipes begin to creep from the PA and finally, the drummers begin to appear. No wonder they’re starting behind time: the setup for The Tengu Taiko Drummers is mind-blowing. They filter onto the stage in masks and present a piece which offers a narrative alongside the striking visuals and the sonic impact of the barrage of percussion. The logistics of some eight musicians packed onto the stage, bounding and leaping and switching positions, plus changing the configuration of the numerous and large drums between pieces would be challenging any night, but with the heat and humidity it’s little short of an heroic feat. It’s an extremely physical performance, and the players aren’t so much glowing as aflame only halfway through. It’s clearly a battle for breath, but they power through to deliver a spectacular show.

DSC01846DSC01869DSC01857

The Tengu Taiko Drummers

Thank dog there’s a bar with some refrigerated beers: the interval affords a vital opportunity to replenish some fluids before Papillon Du Nuit make their highly anticipated stage debut. And they don’t disappoint. The plan, on paper, is simple: to play the album. But to bring a studio-based project to a live setting is a huge leap, and often, what works on tape doesn’t work so well live. But here, it all works spectacularly, and they sound as if they’ve been rehearsing for months – although the fact of the matter is quite different. Indeed, the fact is they’ve only rehearsed a couple of times, so it’s testament to the musical intuition and the high level of skill of the players that they come together so well. The sound, too, is fantastic. Clearly, the venue is set up for musical performances, but the sound engineer achieves magnificent clarity and separation between the instruments.

They open the set as the album begins, with the brooding ‘Jude’, Kennedy whispering ‘Is it dark or am I blind?’ ‘The Pilgrim’s Arc’ sees the drums leading the mix for the first time, paired chunky five-string bass break from Dominique, and showcasing them at their most expansive and ambitious, with its dual vocals, whereby Karen Amanda O’Brien’s voice provides a counterpoint to Shephen’s on this this sweeping epic of a song.

DSC01876DSC01890DSC01877

Pappilon du Nuit

Images of tombstones and lyrical themes of mortality and loss abound, and these are songs rich in poeticism and steeped in the most beautiful melancholy. ‘I’m in your head / so I’m not dead,’ Kennedy sings on ‘Sister, dear’, and it’s as if he’s speaking from the other side in the future tense. The effect is intensely moving, balancing the darkness of the inevitable with a rare positivity, without ever being cliché. In contrast with the reflective atmosphere, Kennedy is sporting – in addition to his trademark hat – some pretty bold trews, the black and white striped spandex giving more glam metal vibes than soul-bearing introspective gothic drama.

‘Amber’ is sparse and atmospheric, and with its marching boots introduction, its dark, gothy bass and snaking guitar, ‘Frozen Charlotte’ is a real highlight of the set, as it is on the album. It’s sweeping, majestic, grand, the sound crisp and clear and nailed tightly to some tense, metronomic drumming. Mika Rudawska’s brooding cello stands out in shaping its haunting atmosphere.

DSC01885DSC01913DSC01918

Bringing the The Tengu Taiko Drummers back for a collaborative rendition of ‘Ariadne’ makes for an incredible finale: Kennedy vacates the stage to stand in front as soprano vocalist Megan Richardson takes centre position, and he enthusiastically conducts this monumental performance.

Combining an album launch with a debut live outing was an ambitious project, to say the least – but it befits such an ambitious musical project – and not only did it not disappoint, but exceeded even the highest expectations. Nothing short of stunning.

Older Entries