Posts Tagged ‘York’

Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs / Meryl Streek – The Crescent Community Centre, York, 14th May 2026

Posted: 15 May 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Once again, I’ve returned to my home from witnessing fantastic acts performing live with a few photos, and barely any notes. This is what happens when the bands are so good you just spend the entire set, transfixed, and when between acts, when you might otherwise capture a few thoughts, you see people you know, and in between a piss and a fresh pint, the time’s gone. I can’t complain about any of this, of course, and I’m not going to. Because this summarises everything that’s great about going to see live music in grassroots venues – not just seeing great bands in close proximity and being able to afford not only a pint, but more than one (you can buy two decent hand-pulled pints of local / regional beer here for the price of a single pint of mass-produced stuff at The Barbican or Leeds O2), but running into familiar faces and being part of a community of people who support live music and are properly into going to see bands.

I’m writing this up now having just seen that The Crescent in York has been named by Time Out as one of the 42 greatest independent venues in the UK, making the Top 10, no less, sharing a bracket with the likes of The Brudenell, Café Oto, and Glasgow Barrowlands. And the more I reflect, the more I feel it’s more than deserved. It really is that good, in that it has everything you could possibly want from an independent gig venue – and tonight is exemplary. It’s sold out, and the bar’s packed a good half an hour before doors, plus there’s a queue, meaning it’s filled up nicely by the time Meryl Streek takes the stage at 8.

Meryl Streek is a revelation, and a world away from Pigs stylistically, sonically, in terms of performance… and this is a strong positive. For one man with a backing track, he sure does a good job of making up for the absence of a band, constantly pacing back and forth with a frenetic, kinetic, nervous energy. The set is strewn with samples and recordings of news items, predominantly about suicide and murder, prefacing or integrated within songs on the same. Real people are the subjects, and he pours heart and soul into every word. The vocal style is not exactly rapping, and certainly not singing, but essentially agitated ranting over electronic-based tracks with sturdy bass and booming beats. At times it’s near disco, others quite abrasive noise. He apologises for the content, and for – well, I’m not quite sure what for. The crowd’s behind him (even when he’s off the stage and in the middle of them, if you see what I mean) and deservedly so. Musically entertaining, lyrically harrowing, it’s a strong set.

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Meryl Streek

AC/DC’s ‘For Those About to Rock’ is played in full as an intro before Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs – or Pigs x 7 as they tend to be more commonly referred to, for obvious reasons – take to the stage. It’s an apposite choice: we are indeed, about to fucking rock.

Their back line is immense. The sound is beyond immense, and they blast out riff after riff after riff. They roll up all of the best of riff monsters and chuck in some space rock for good measure, resulting in a glorious hybrid of Sabbath, Mötörhead, and Hawkwind. And while on the face of it, there’s nothing unique on offer, when it comes to riffs, size matters, and these guys do riffs on a truly galactic scale. The delivery really makes it, though. The bass and drums are locked in tight, and the two guitarists swap effortlessly between lead and rhythm parts, sometimes both playing both.

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Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs

Matt Baty, in shorts and vest, dripping with sweat (and the copious water he pours over himself) adopts a stance like Henry Rollins as he hollers into a vortex of reverb. But given his build, and tendency to bounce lightfootedly and strike random poses, it’s more like watching Barry McGuigan doing Freddie Mercury on Celebrity Stars in Their Eyes. They’re a band who clearly don’t take themselves too seriously, and every three or four songs – hammered out back to back – there’s a pause for breath, during which he relays a tale in three or four parts which is more or less about the fact that they’ve never been invited to play Download Festival (cue pantomime booing and hissing from the crowd). This is very much Download’s loss. There’s also a reference to ‘The hardest man in Billingham’ – which happens to be a song by fellow northeasters IRKED, who we welcomed to York only last week. There’s some good stuff happening up there right now, and it’s great that we get to share in this. In fact, despite the fact that the world is insane and there’s war everywhere, the cost of living is crippling, and pubs and venues are closing at an alarming rate, this is a good time for new music.

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Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs

As they’re touring to promote their (fairly) recently-released fifth album, it stands to reason that the set should focus on that, opening with ‘The Wyrm’ and playing pretty much the album in its entirety, with occasional delves into the back-catalogue, with ‘Big Rig’, ‘Mr Medicine’ and ‘Ultimate Hammer’ from Land of Sleeper also making an appearance and ‘GNT’ from 2018’s King of Cowards being the oldest song in the set. No-one’s beefing about the setlist: the new album is a corker and live, they slay from start to finish. Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs = Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs Riffs, and tonight’s show was an absolute rip-snorter.

Irked / JUKU / Chaffinch / Duck – Fulfordgate WMC, York, 9th May 2026

Posted: 10 May 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

One measure of how much I’ve enjoyed a night is by volume the notes I’ve made. It’s not a hard and fast rule, but fewer notes tend to indicate that I’ve been too immersed in the performances – and likely being social in between – to write much. And so it is that I returned home tonight with a bunch of blurry photos and the grand total of fifty-four words.

Yes, for their one-year anniversary gig, Utterly Fuzzled have laid on a truly top-class lineup – and it’s drawn a deservedly significant crowd. And the gong is back! A feature of the early events, it’s a welcome return for this signature piece of instrumentation, which variously heralds the opening of a set, or otherwise

Sheffield’s Duck are making their Fuzzled debut, and showcase a northern post-punk style that emanates authenticity, due in no small part to their vintage drum machine and synths which define the sound. They had issues with their levels throughout the set, taking a song or two before the drum machine cut through some particularly murky, bassy guitar and the dominant synths, only to sink back beneath the waves two-thirds of the way through. But then the tide was in their favour, they were ace, with a crisp pop edge and some nice harmonies. In places, they reminded me of short-lived and criminally underrated goth-pop act Sunshot (whose guitarist, Toby Bricheno, is the brother of Tim Bricheno, formerly of All About Eve and The Sisters of Mercy).

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Duck

It wouldn’t be an Utterly Fuzzled event without one of the various projects of the organisers on the bill, and tonight we get a – comparatively rare – outing from Chaffinch, which in terms of lineup is essentially Knitting Circle plus an additional guitarist. Sonically, they are somewhat different. Precisely what they sound like seems to be a topic for debate, with different people hearing different things, and with no recordings, it’s impossible to verify. To my ear, it’s a cocktail of mathy post-punk with some c.86 indie jangle and a dash of shoegaze, which is perhaps best summarised as ‘chaffinchous’ (there you go, Jamie, the royalties from the coinage are in the post).

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Chaffinch

The aforementioned additional guitarist is a towering presence – both physically and sonically, and requires a lot of space for his expressive playing, playing in front of the stage, trading angular chords with Pete Dale, while Jo knocks out chunky, solid basslines by way of balance. Considering they’re debuting some new and recently revised material, they manage to keep it tight, and by the end of the set, all bar drummer Marc are in front of the stage.

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Chaffinch

Riff behemoths JUKU never disappoint, and tonight they’re fully pumped-up and giving 110%. They bring maximum riffs, and maximum rock ‘n’ roll, at maximum volume. On paper, comparatively primitive song structures, based around, repetitive chords hammered out hard is cool and all, but hardly a revelation. It’s not so much what they do, then, but how they do it: propelled by powerhouse percussion and blasting bass, the twin guitar assault forges a ferocious wall of sound. It’s not volume simply for its own sake, but with the function of rendering a visceral physicality to their performances. And they all play as if their instruments are plugged directly into the mains, with an electric, kinetic energy that positively crackles. Practically all of my photos of Dan Gott are unusable, his features blurred like a Francis Bacon portrait, and looking on, I feel as if my own face is melting in the face of the sheer sonic force tearing forth.

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JUKU

Any references likening the experience to being hit by a freight train, or a freewheeling juggernaut with failed brakes hitting terminal velocity as it screams downhill are entirely appropriate. But for all the noise, the three-way vocals and some deft detail within the guitar work demonstrates an attention to melody and nuance: they very much do have songs. ‘Out of Control’ is a straight-up grunger in the vein of Hole.

Irked were second from top of the bill at the first Utterly Fuzzled on 10th May last year (and with Crumbs and Slime City also featured, it’s possible to now look back and see just what a statement of intent this was). They’ve come quite some way in that time, having released their debut album, The Grievance at the start of the month, and won a high-profile fan in the form of none other than Simon le Bon. If they were phenomenal a year ago, they’re even better now. The formula is classic, vintage punk, with short, sharp songs focused on three-chord riffs played hard and very, very fast, with the lyrics hollered just and hard and just as fast. Irked do pissed off and angry, but they also do fun. Not only are they incredibly entertaining, but it’s clear they’re enjoying themselves, too: Helen may be endlessly pacing, lunging, clambering, in the crowd and in your face, but she’s equally prone to fits of giggles.

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Irked

It’s guitarist Simon who delivers the chat and banter, griefing his bandmates in a good-natured way, and oftentimes absolutely hilarious, although ahead of the last couple of songs, he does pause to reflect on the state of the nation and the dire prospects we face in the wake of last week’s council elections, but taking the opportunity to praise the community spirit of nights like this. He’s absolutely right: what Utterly Fuzzled give us is more than great bands. There’s a warmth in the room (and not just because it’s packed and there’s no aircon): people come here and feel able to leave the bad shit at the door and see first-hand that there is good in the world. We need to not lose sight of this.

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Irked

They close their blistering set with a quick one-two of ‘The Hardest Man in Billingham’ and debut single ‘Backstreets’, making for a ferocious finale to a fantastic night.

The buzz in the room as people draw breath and process what they’ve just witnessed is unmistakeable. Here’s looking to another year of Fuzzled brilliance.

The 113 / Mince / Disappear – The Fulford Arms, York, 6th May 2026

Posted: 7 May 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Generally speaking, the role of the journalist is to tell the story while staying out of the picture, although Hunter S. Thompson redefined the role of the journalist when he invented gonzo. In the main, I try to remain in the shadows (quite literally), particularly when it comes to live reviews, but sometimes, there’s a narrative switch that simply could not have been anticipated that drags you into the story as a participant, rather than an observer.

“Last time we were here, we got called ‘shouty shit indie’”, says the main singer from Mince, four songs or so songs into their set. It’s true, that did happen, and I stand by that description, too. Given that the last time they were here was April last year, supporting Gans, it would seem it’s niggled them a bit. But, if you’re going to get up in front of people, don’t expect everyone to love it. At least it was no Dream Nails scenario.

Before we move forward, let’s first go back, back, back. The reason I’m here is because The 113, from Leeds, have just released their second EP, The Hedonist, and it’s nothing short of explosive. The real test of a band is whether they can cut it live, though. So now they’re out on the road, grafting – not grifting – and York on a Wednesday night is always going to be a test for an up-and-coming band working to build their fanbase.

It’s not heaving, but there’s a respectable turnout, and first on are Disappear, who trade in jangly country-flavoured indie with a hint of shoegaze. They don’t use plectrums, and the singer / guitarist demonstrates some interesting playing technique. It doesn’t always hit the mark, and the same is true of the off-key approximation of singing. The drummer keeps having to get out from behind his kit to adjust the guy’s guitar pedals, too, which is just weird. They can play, but the songs are uninspired and uninspiring. Toward the end of the set there’s a song that sounds like The Wedding Present circa Bizarro, but again, it’s let down by the vocals. As a band, they aren’t terrible, but I can’t in all conscience say they were any good. The drummer – who is impressive – needs to be in a better band.

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Disappear

And so Mince inform the crowd – who are largely enthusiastic, in fairness – about the review of the last time they were here. I stand by that description, although in fairness, there’s a bit more to it than that: there’s some 60s psych in the mix, and plenty of energy to the performance, too. They have two vocalists – the first, with mop-top haircut, wigs out while playing guitar, while the second paces petulantly, swaggers, and gives it all that. But after maybe three songs, he mostly sits or squats at the back of the stage beside the drum kit, scratching his forehead with his mic and rubbing his face, looking knackered, and stays largely quiet. After coming hard out of the traps, it’s as if he’s out of energy and given up, while the rest of the band thrash on. It’s a bit odd, and oddest of all is that it’s an exact rerun of their previous show here, and on balance they’re better when he takes a back seat (literally).

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Mince

The 113 have built considerable momentum, and fast. Their debut EP, To Combat Regret was released just over a year ago, and The Hedonist continues that arc of nihilistic post-punk aggro delivered with visceral energy. How would it translate live, and how would they fill a headline slot? It turns out they’ve got a solid album’s worth of material, which comfortably fills an hour with no long-winded waffle. They don’t need to pause for political platforming, or pass sociopolitical comment, since it’s all there in the song, which they pack in tightly. And they do so it a nonchalant confidence, too: they’ve got their sound absolutely nailed, and it’s a thick, dense sound, and crisp drums cut through, punchy percussion played with perfect precision. Much of the guitar work is sculpted feedback, but there are steely chords overlaid with sinewy lead parts, and there are times when I’m reminded of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, another of Leeds’ finest from when the city was the spawning ground of the goth scene that emerged from post punk.

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The 113

They’re electric from start to finish, slamming in with ‘Leach’, and play with an urgency that’s impossible to manufacture. Each band member brings something specific, the towering bassist lurking in the background hammers out hefty grooves. The guitarist plays so hard he busts his A string four songs in, and because they’re not about to let up the momentum, takes another four songs to finally manage to replace it. They simply don’t pause for breath, they keep their heads down and blast them out. ‘When I Leave’ is a mid-set standout, and ‘Entertainment’ is nothing short of scorching. Set closer ‘Conscience’ is a lacerating blast and bang, that’s it, done. The 113 are a band who have got everything down – they hit hard, clinical, brutal, high impact. They’re already making inroads into Europe, and things will likely be quite different come this time next year…

Utterly Fuzzled 7.5: Bhajan Boy / Lou Richards / Piró / Andrew DR Abbot / Jo Dale – Fulfordgate WMC, York, 23rd April 2026

Posted: 24 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

It may be numbered 7.5 in the Utterly Fuzzled catalogue, but there’s nothing ‘half’ about this event. Showcasing quieter and more acoustic-based acts than usual, it does mark something of a departure from their usual mix of indie / alternative / different / stuff, but this stacked five-act bill still brings variety and quality in equal measure.

The joy of these nights is that you can turn up without knowing anything about the majority of the acts and still know there’ll be plenty of interest, even if it’s not all to your taste. Put another way, an Utterly Fuzzled night is not dissimilar to how it was listening to John Peel: a mixed bag, you might not love all of it, but it would never be dull and you’d always come away with something new that made an impression. And tonight is absolutely no exception.

Jo Dale – event co-organiser and bassist with local favourites Knitting Circle is on early doors, nervous and questioning the wisdom of putting herself on for a solo acoustic set – doesn’t make the obvious choice of playing versions of Knitting Circle songs. Oh no. Instead, it’s a whole new set of songs played on acoustic bass, one of which was penned mere hours before when she realised her set was too short. The combination of nerves and newness make for a slightly shaky start, but she’s a deft tunesmith and the audience is behind her (metaphorically speaking, that is) and she finds her feet and confidence over the course of her handful of songs.

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Jo Dale

Andrew DR Abbot is an old hand, and a longstanding feature of the DIY scene in the North. It was more than a quarter of a century since I first stumbled upon him playing baritone guitar as one half of That Fucking Tank, supporting Whitehouse at The Grapes in Sheffield. Whitehouse were too quiet and rather disappointing on that occasion, and TFT were the act of the night by miles. While now performing – again with James Islip, and still with the baritone guitar – as Lands and Body, he’s also doing solo stuff which is an electroacoustic sort of set up, involving field recordings by way of a backing to guitar that’s looped and layered. He’s at ease on stage, and the set simply flows. Starting with a 12-string guitar and switching to an eight-string, Abbot deploys a bottle, a tiny bow, and various other tools to augment some technically proficient picking and fretwork. Cascading notes create an immersive, atmospheric continuous piece which transitions through a sequence of passages. To say that it’s ‘nice’ may sound weak and noncommittal, but as a listening experience, that’s exactly what it is, and I find myself feeling calm but subtly exhilarated.

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Andrew DR Abbot

Piró – over from Spain and touring alongside Andy Abbott – plays vibrant folksy songs with a Latin flavour, routing an acoustic guitar through some pedals with loops and distortion making for some interesting sounds. His set was marred somewhat by some noisy sods at the back who talked and laughed constantly, and talked and laughed louder during the louder parts. But like a pro, he kept a level head and simply played on, and gave us some nicely worked loops and guitar detail in songs performed with heart.

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Piró

Lou Richards’ set was a compact affair comprising just four songs, the last of which was a John Cale cover performed alongside one of her former bandmates. But less is more, particularly when it comes to poetical words paired with delicately picked clean electric guitar. It’s pleasant, a very different kind of folk, about hedgerows and heritage, nature and nurturing.

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Lou Richards

Bhajan Boy is sporting a Fall T-shirt and brings big drones which form the basis of a set that builds slowly and deliberately, with some clattering and clanking that adds considerable texture. It’s only gradually that the drone evolves into a dense noise, as the set bhuilds subtly in layers and volume. Twenty minutes in and I’m wondering how much further he can take it, how much more he can add. That’s when he starts on the bellows and the sound really swells to a huge swashing sonic tide, rendered all the more full-spectrum by bleeps and crackling distortion, before gradually pulling back through a very long tapering wind down.

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Bhajan Boy

It’s an immersive soundscape, which is very different from the rest of the lineup. This in itself is the quintessence of the Utterly Fuzzled ethos, and in a time where live music is struggling and touring is difficult, a night like tonight stands as a beacon.

Froglord / Space Pistol / Troll Mother – The Fulford Arms, York, 21st April 2026

Posted: 22 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Suspicious Liquid had originally been down to open this evening’s dark proceedings, but they’ve been replaced by Troll Mother. While not getting to see Suspicious Liquid again is disappointing, southern power sludge duo Troll Mother are everything their name suggests… or are they? They’re more Mötörhead than Melvins, with a hardcore punk edge in places. They also boast an absolutely fucking MASSIVE drum kit, meaning that when the drummer takes on vocal duties – something they share – it’s not always immediately obvious because he’s largely obscured by a huge bank of toms and a swathe of cymbals. They make a cracking racket, too, with next to no pauses for the full duration of their half-hour set.

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Troll Mother

Space Pistol bring the riffs, and they do evoke Melvins, as well as Faith No More, and Hawk Eyes, among others. The three are decked out in matching orange boiler suits and the bassist, who has a board with about 36 pedals plays with his face. He also leaps and bounds – and yes, positively cavorts – about the stage with a flamboyance that’s uncommon to a bad that are this big on hefty riffs. There are false endings galore, and at one point they lock statue-like positions and maintain silence for maybe a good twenty seconds, during which time you could hear a pin drop. They absolutely love this, to the extent that it seems that this moment is a career high point for them. Since they’ve come all the way from Milton Keynes for this, we’re pleased that York is a memorable show for them, and I’m pretty sure they’d be welcome back up here any time.

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Space Pistol

Froglord, meanwhile, are making a return visit after just eleven months. The concept is pretty ludicrous, the stage show even more so: a stoner / doom band all about amphibians, kitted out in masks and arranging their sets as some form of swamp-centric ritual. The fact that they’ve eked this out across six albums now is nothing short of remarkable. But the fact that every show is an event, shaped by that sense of occasion and ritual is part of the appeal – that and the fact the performances are entertaining and they really know how to riff.

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Froglord

But there is a certain serious element to the band (not that heavyweight sludgy riffs in themselves aren’t serious), in that they’re genuinely eco-conscious, and their frog fixation isn’t all just japes, with 100% of the proceeds from digital sales of their new album, Lower & Slower Vol 1, released in March, are being donated to the Waterfowl & Wetland Trust (WWT) – the wetland charity, as well as 50% of all physical media and merch profits. Or, as they put it, ‘At it’s [sic] core, Froglord have always been an environmentally [sic]-driven band. Through their fundraising and tale of an amphibious deity, reeking vengenace [sic] on humanity for the environmental destruction they caused.’ Personally, I like them even more for this. Once could reasonably argue that just a handful of the world’s billionaires could eradicate poverty and save the planet and not even notice a reduction in lifestyle and that Froglord’s sales aren’t even a drop in a puddle in comparison, but that’s not the point: the point is that these guys actually care, and are using their platform for good.

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Froglord

They also put on a great show. It’s no huge development on the last time around: their website positions it as follows: ‘Returning with brand new masks, costumes, and a 6th studio album, Froglord deliver another massive offering of amphibious swamp doom. Recorded live in the studio in a single take, Lower & Slower briefly pauses the band’s concept storytelling of the Tale of The Froglord saga, instead revisiting six previously released tracks from across their discography’. And the fact is, it works: tonight’s performance feels very much like a consolidation, and they seem particularly focused, the set’s structure absolutely honed to perfection in every way. They drop a powerful cover of ‘Iron Man’ early in the second half of the set, and in many ways, this speaks for itself. The bassist plays wearing a frog glove puppet for a while, and after the ritual circulating of the giant rubber toad later in the set, said toad is then used to bash bass strings before eventually tucked in the crook of an elbow in a more friendly fashion for a time.

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Froglord

Admirably, they never break character for a moment: this is outstanding theatre. It’s also outstanding, riff-driven fun. All hail the Froglord!

Salvation / The InSect / The Scarlet Hour – The Fulford Arms, York, 17th April 2026

Posted: 18 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

This is one of those occasions where music critique intersects with personal experience. I make no apology for this. I’ve long maintained that one’s relationship with music is personal, and it goes beyond the fact that the soundtrack of your life is something which evolves in ways beyond your control.

The first time I saw Salvation was ay my first ‘proper’ gig, when I was 14: they were supporting The Mission at Sheffield City Hall in March 1990. I didn’t know who they were at the time. But I soon discovered that they were an integral part of the early 80s Leeds milieu, and they’re noteworthy for having their first two singles produced by different members of The Sisters of Mercy, among other things.

The last time I saw them was at The Brudenell in Leeds, the day after the Queen died, and ahead of it, my wife bought me one of their T-shirts. It turned out to be the last birthday present she bought me, as she died just four months later. So here I am, wearing that shirt, to see a band I first saw thirty-six years ago, playing just fifteen minutes from my house in a 150-capacity pub venue. It’s a big deal, but also an occasion which lands with mixed emotions.

The Scarlet Hour are a duo with programmed synth and drum backing and live bass. But there’s an awkwardness about them and their set. The sound is a bit thin – that’s thanks to the bass and backing track being proportionally quiet, and the fairly clean vocals being a bit high in the mix, meaning the cliché lyrics are more audible than is desirable, and the vocals – trying and failing to sound menacing and tortured don’t help. Tim Synistyr (who really is anything but) has the poses – not to mention the leather jacket, open snakeskin-patterned shirt and ‘Body Electric’ T-shirt – but no aspect of the performance feels natural, the poses come across as being forced as the off-key singing. Dose makes the poison, and the naffness has a cumulative effect, making for a long half hour. ‘Stay Awake’ sounds like New Order circa ’83 and ‘Afterlife’ calls to mind the flimsy pop of Depeche Mode’s ‘New Life’ – novel, and a decent enough tune, but it would be a long time before they got interesting. Unfortunately, that’s something The Scarlet Hour never do. The applause is more polite than enthusiastic.

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The Scarlet Hour

The InSect, who released their debut album As It Ever Was a week ago, have a much more elaborate stage show and a full band lineup. Despite the fact I’m a fan of drum machines myself, their performance strikes a huge contrast with The Scarlet Hour’s in terms of dynamics, volume, sonic density, and energy, and much of this is on account of the band-ness they present. In terms of presentation, they’ve a lot more going for them, too: The Insect are flamboyant and theatrical, and look comfortable acting up and bringing the show to the audience. Ed Banshee is a natural from man who spends a good portion of the set among the crowd, and Athena FireChild provides the perfect interplay. Instrumentally, they’re tight, and compositionally and stylistically, there are strong hints of Bauhaus. They go all out to put on a show, to entertain, with bright white lights and various other accoutrements adding to the atmosphere. But ultimately, it’s their energy that makes their set what it is.

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The InSect

And so, to Salvation. For tonight, SASS-era guitarist Adam Clarkson is back in the band at short notice, and this has necessitated a revised set-list from the one played at The Old Woollen in Farsley a week or so previous – but as this seemingly means the reintroduction of ‘Jessica’s Crime’ in place of a cover of ‘Don’t Change’ by INXS, it’s hardly a bad thing. They confess to a few slips during the set, but it’s unlikely anyone out front noticed: the keenest of fans are getting down and busting moves at the front from the start, and this is a relaxed show, with some good-natured back-and-forth between band and audience throughout.

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Salvation

Salvation sound absolutely fantastic, and again highlight the difference between the old-school drum machine bands and more recent ones: they know how to crank up the beats – and the synth bass – to create a full sound which is at least equal to live instrumentation. Perhaps more specifically it’s an early 80s Leeds thing, but they, like The March Violets at The Warehouse last year, sound loud and vibrant, with a bass drum sound that truly kicks and a snare that cracks right into the cranium, punching through the interweaving mesh of the dual guitars.

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Salvation

They were always at the more accessible end of the spectrum in comparison to The Sisters and The Violets, but at the heart of songs like ‘The Shining’, there’s that solid bass groove, pumping drum sound, and nifty guitar work – and live, the guitars pack more punch than on the recordings. Tonight’s rendition of ‘Jessica’s Crime’ lands between the more guitar-orientated version recorded for she shelved Clash of Dreams album for Merciful Release, and the Wayne Hussey produced viola-soaked rerecording, released as a single in 1985, and it’s nothing short of killer. ‘All and More’ lands near the end of the set, which closes with ‘Why Lie’, and the pretence of an encore is tossed aide as they leap into a fun, chuggy cover of ‘Kids in America’ which brings the set to an elated conclusion.

And for all the weight of personal history pressing into this outing for me, I’m more than glad I turned out.

Knitting Circle / JUKU / Small Gauge – The Black Horse, York, 2nd April 2026

Posted: 3 April 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Since starting out with Horsemusic last year, these nights – hosted at a pub (a classic boozer that for some years was a Tap and Spile before reverting to its previous name) just outside the city walls on the first Thursday of the month – have become rapidly established as showcases for local and regional talent, focusing primarily on York acts, but also providing a platform to emerging talents from places like Hull and Leeds. This, their seventh event, perfectly encapsulates their approach to curation and once again highlights the depth of quality acts knocking around in the locality right now.

Small Guage, from Leeds, are relative newcomers, but they’re clearly well-rehearsed and tight with some sharp endings played with precision. Pitched as ‘Leeds post-punk’, their sound is more mid-80s indie. There’s debate after their set as to which bands they’re actually reminiscent of, and while the whole C86 sound and 4AD are floating into my mind, I run into a friend at the bar who makes a spirited comparison to The Monochrome Set, while agreeing that there’s not just a slew of bands but a whole era that seems to have been absorbed into their sound, which is melodic and jangly, with two interweaving guitars and a singing female drummer with minimal kit – bass, snare, floor tom, no cymbals. The songs are held tightly together by some solid note-on-the-beat basslines. They’re also quite gentle…

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Small Gauge

The same can’t be said of JUKU. Discussing them beforehand, I summed them up to someone as ‘loud’. “C’mon,” was the reply, “That’s not a style, or what they sound like.” Ordinarily, I’d agree, but the description on the flyer simply states ‘bring earplugs’, and I pity anyone who didn’t. This band is nothing short of a rabid riff monster. They play big, dumb riffs, reminiscent at times of The Stooges, The Ramones… with everything cranked up to eleven… They play hard and fast and with a frothing intensity. Naomi sings and whacks her bass and spends the set willing her glasses to stay on her face to the end of each song. They have a few issues with feedback from the mics tonight, which have likely been turned up to compete with the blistering volume of the backline. But if the result is chaos, it’s utterly compelling and immensely powerful. Brittle surf-goth lead guitar lines echo through the squalling wall of noise, and it’s wild to see a band of this calibre – and of this volume – for free in a York pub with a capacity of maybe seventy-five, when they’re worthy of headlining at The Brudenell in Leeds.

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JUKU

Knitting Circle may not be as punishingly loud, but their busy live schedule means that they’re super-tight, and looking and sounding confident. As well they might: they’re on fine form, and in terms of performance, tonight is a couple of steps up from when they played on the other side of town at The Fulfordgate WMC in February. While the vocals are a bit muddy-sounding, and Pete’s guitar is a little more midrange in tone than usual, muffling the Andy Gill-style trebly chop, but it still cuts through against Jo’s bass, which is nicely up in the mix and positively throbs.

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Knitting Circle

The ultra-succinct ‘Create, Don’t Destroy’ (which may be a recent addition to the set, if I’m not mistaken) is a standout among a set of more established standouts, including ‘Safe Routes’, which (sadly) remains ever relevant, ‘The Fox’, and closer ‘Losing My Eggs’. The crowd want more, though, and manage top coax them to deliver an encore – and the unplanned and seemingly unrehearsed instrumental sound like Shellac, thunderous drumming exploding behind a rumbling bass groove and mathy guitar line. It’s a great finish to another great night. 

Andracca / Misko Boba / Bruul / Darkened Void – The Fulford Arms, York, 22nd March 2026

Posted: 23 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

It’s a good thing it’s not raining or bitterly cold, as they’re running late setting up. Consequently, there’s a hoard of black clad folks milling about outside waiting to be let in – although thankfully, we’re allowed to go and get drinks from the bar to bring back outside. In fairness, it’s a rare thing here, and many much bigger venues are prone to opening the doors a lot more than ten minutes late. Nevertheless, I’m glad I decided to wear a hat, because Spring is still in its early stages and there’s a nip in the air.

It’s still winter inside, though, as we kick off a night of back-to-back black metal. But who knew there were so many shades of black? The four acts on tonight’s bill are all denominations of black metal, but couldn’t be more different.

Darkened Void, from Hull – yes, that’s a ‘u’ and not an ‘e’ – promise ‘melodic death black metal’. How this translates is that some of the guitar work is a bit Brian May at times, and there are some epic choruses in the mix. But there is much heavy darkness to behold, too. They’re certainly tight, and are at their most powerful when they put their heads down and churn out the monster riffs, which benefit significantly from the heft of two guitars.

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Darkened Void

Bruul, purveyors of ‘barbaric black metal’ who hail from York have their priorities right, sorting the incense sticks before their guitars and mic stands. This seems pretty civilised, if a tad bohemian, rather than barbaric. But they bring the density with a solid wall of the filthiest guitars and hell-for-leather drumming to deliver a brutal and relentless rabid blast of bestial fury. They’d probably put some effort into their makeup, but playing in near darkness they probably didn’t need to – they’re all but invisible but for the lead guitarist’s white trainers – although the atmospheric presentation certainly heightened the impact of their pummelling racket. The sheer force of their set is nothing short of stunning, and to his this level of volume and intensity so early in the night is staggering.

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Bruul

Misko Boba are the main reason I’m here after they devastated my ears in this same venue at the tail end of 2024. While being based in York, they’re a band of international origin – vocalist Kanopa is Lithuanian by origin, and her delving into Lithuanian folklore adds a level of mystique. More than that, her stage presence is nothing short of terrifying. But there’s a lot more happening here: the demonic shriek of the blood-smeared singer is paired with churning guitar work and gut-juddering five-string bass. Perhaps singing in Lithuanian (the setlist features an English translation beneath each of the song titles) adds a dimension of otherness, but everything about their performance is blindingly intense. They play hard and fast – very fast. What on the surface sounds like a blizzard of noise is, in fact, highly detailed, and the pace of the fretwork and percussion is dazzling. The effect, ultimately, is so powerful as to kick the air from your lungs.

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Misko Boba

Andracca purport to bring us black metal ‘devoted to suffering… To a Bare the Weight of Death encapsulates 5 years of grief plagued with successive deaths…’ says their bio. With faces and arms smeared with black and a massive skull (what it’s supposed to have belonged to is a mystery) on stage, they’re the quintessence of black metal. But they also highlight the tightrope that is black metal – the fine line between full-throttle, immersive rage and corny theatrics.

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Andracca

‘Thank you!’ vocalist Kieran Dawes rasps, in character, before, in a normal and very polite voice, ‘can I get more vocal in the monitor, please?’ In an instant, the spell is broken. Whereas Bruul maintained the magic by staying mute and just playing the songs, and Kanopa of Misko Boba relaxed into an affable character between songs and switched into fiery demonic mode for the songs themselves, Andracca can’t maintain a consistent approach. Perhaps more cringey than that, though, is the fact that in terms of posturing and cliché, they’re a bit Spinal Tap, but thankfully the drummer doesn’t explode. That said, I seem to be alone in finding the lofted guitars, playing back-to-back, and the power poses rather daft, and the packed crowd laps it up with pumping fists. Seriously, they are well into it, especially the front rows, and this reciprocal energy loop makes for a great atmosphere – and there’s no mistaking the technical skills or epic nature of the songwriting of Andracca, whose forty-five minute set features just seven songs. There’s new material on offer, and they conclude with the seven-minute ‘Oceans of Fire’.

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Andracca

They’re probably the third best band on the bill tonight, due to presentation more than content. But what tonight demonstrates is just how strong the metal scene is round here. Despite what seems to be an ever-diminishing number of venues and the ongoing cost of living crisis, it’s heartening that there are so many quality bands around, and people willing to stump up to go and see them – especially on a Sunday night.

Suspicious Liquid / ATKRTV / World Coda / The Expression – The Fulford Arms, York, 20th March 2026

Posted: 21 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Hang around a scene enough and you come to recognise certain promoters and gauge the quality of the lineup by their name on it. Pasky has quietly, unassumingly, come to be one of those promoters. Three of the acts on tonight’s bill have already been featured – extremely positively – here at Aural Aggravation, meaning the quality of the night was assured in advance.

Sure enough, The Expression, who caught my ear last autumn make for a super start to the night with their brand of dreamy shoegaze, which features some nice strolling basslines. Smoke fills the stage – perhaps a little more than planned – and serves to accentuate their brooding melancholy atmospherics. There’s an aching sadness to their songs, and a great mix out front does them justice.

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The Expression

The night’s unknown quantity, World Coda come on like a gothed-up Curve at first. With a machine subbing in lieu of a drummer (seems to be a theme emerging with London-based bands coming to York having lost their percussion player – one can only hope it’s not some kind of a curse), the murky beats pulse through some shimmering post-rock / shoegaze hybrid with ethereal vocals and crunching (headless) bass tones. There is an immense sound. Then, from nowhere, Yao emits a black metal howl… Then she switches to a gloriously operatic style, without changing expression or posture. It’s incredible to watch this unreadable performer produce such an array of vocal styles without even blinking. In fact, everything about World Coda – appropriately named, as this is music which sounds like witnessing the end of the world in slow-motion – is incredible. The sound is dense but delicate and detailed, and the drums well programmed, and when paired with that ripping bass, it’s like a black metal Slowdive with Big Black’s rhythm section. The elements of their music are all familiar, but assembled in such a way as to be unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It’s tear-inducingly beautiful, and immensely powerful. The dark pop rush of ‘Sleepless Dawn’ is sheer perfection. There are stunned and euphoric expressions around the room.

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World Coda

To say ATKRTV have a hard act to follow is an understatement, but benefit from being completely different in every imaginable way. The slow-build instrumental intro with peaks and troughs does nothing whatsoever to preempt the raging hardcore attack of the second song. They’ve come on a way since December: they present all the same elements as then, with hints of Bleach era Nirvana, Mudhoney, The Jesus Lizard, etc., with lurching, jarring riffs played hard and fast midst shrieks if feedback, with beefy bass and thrashing drums, and they still play with the same explosive energy, but they’re more together, more precise this time around, and all the better for it.

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ATKRTV

Suspicious Liquid are relaunching their eponymous debut album, which was released in November, and from the start, it feels like an event. They start atmospheric, instrumental, the three instrumentalists on stage, building tension. Vanessa makes an Entrance. At first, we hear her but she’s not on stage. The first bold riff of the set surges, and suddenly she appears. They’ve always been a strong live act with a sense of theatre, but tonight, this is a real performance. Into the second song, and she’s straight off and leading the mosh pit.

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Suspicious Liquid

It’s not my ears deceiving me, or the fact that I’m revved after three back-to-back acts who would all be worthy headliners: Suspicious Liquid are bigger, bolder, heavier, and Vanessa stronger in voice, more confident than any time I’ve seen them previously. Tonight feels like the show they’ve been building up to. As a band, they’re locked in a zone and bursting with energy. Again, they straddle numerous genres and amalgamate them with a unique twist: yes, there’s stoner and doom and heavy psychedelia and even a dash of Sabbathesque occultism in the mix, and they sure bring the riffs, and while they’d probably be at home on New Heavy Sounds, you wouldn’t say they sound like any other act, drawing in as they do subtle elements of jazz in the compositions, and there are some strong hooks amidst the athletic vocals.

Sustained moshing breaks out two thirds through the set. It’s bloody roasting and they turn up the heat with the album’s opener ‘Bogman’, and they draw the set – and the night – to a blistering climax. But just what was the ‘suspicious liquid’ in the chalice they passed around the audience? No-one’s saying…

The Hangnails / Heavy Bloom / The John Conference – The Black Horse, York, 5th March 2026

Posted: 6 March 2026 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

The monthly Horsemusic nights at The Black Horse in York have very quickly become a showcase for emerging and established local and regional talent. The venue makes sense: it’s within yards on the city walls, and with regular quizzes and the like, the pub is very much community orientated, and has a quality selection of local and regional hand-pulled ales, all at a flat rate of £5.10. Given the geography and general climate, this is impressive – and the nights bring in a decent crowd. Putting on college bands and the like who are likely struggling to get a foot in the door on the live circuit gets people down early doors, too, although it does mean that I feel like an absolute fucking fossil at the ripe age of fifty, ordering a pint of pale while being buffeted by rucksacks and shoulder bags as people around me clamour to buy Cruzcampo and white wine by the gallon.

Tonight promises the usual quality, with the online preview offering ‘the mighty The Hangnails, Shoegaze Dream Pop from Heavy Bloom and The John Conference pumping out Indie Psych Rock’.

The John Conference, it turns out, are infinitely more complex than the ‘indie psych rock’ tag may suggest. There’s a bit of Pulp and a bit of early Britpop going on early in the set perhaps, but despite the guitarist having a Suede sticker between his pickups, this is mostly indie with a more 80s vibe. They’re a little bit rough and ready, but actually, it’s adds to the appeal – they’ve got songs and they can certainly lay, with some quite detailed and occasionally proggy basslines dominating the sound. Then, at times, they come on more like early Wire.

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The John Conference

Their sole cover is of King Crimson’s ‘One More Red Nightmare’, which is unexpected, but sits well in what is a wide-ranging set. There’s a lot to unpack here, and it’s all good.

Heavy Bloom favour mid-pace understated, introspective songs with a gentle jangle which will suddenly blossom into soaring shoegaze swirls. After testing out a new song for the first time, which likely worked better than their assessment, the closer to this pleasant, and at times hypnotic, set is a slow-burner which builds to a magnificent sustained crescendo.

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Heavy Bloom

What’s remarkable is the standard of young emerging bands right now. So many step out with their songs, their style, their sound, and presentation down. Time was when bands would form and take to the stage before they’d even learned more than three chords. You couldn’t get away with that now. This is, I feel, a mixed blessing. It means you’re unlikely to hear many really ropey bands, but there’s not much of the old punk ethos in evidence.

The Hangnails have come a long way. They’ve certainly refined every aspect of their form since they emerged as a squalling garage duo blasting a wall of treble. And yes, they have mellowed, too. Considerably.

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The Hangnails

A few of the songs in tonight’s set are positively anthemic – something inconceivable in their early years. The addition of a third member on bass and synths and bringing laptop layers in, which was seemingly coincidental or approximate to their dropping the ‘…and’ part of the name, has certainly been a significant factor in the expansion of their sound, and no doubt their sonic horizons. Nevertheless, it’s incredible to hear a band sounding this polished and this immense in a pub setting, particularly considering that only the vocals (and probably keyboards) are going through the PA and what we’re getting out front is backline and unmiced drums. Steven Ried wouldn’t need mics on his kit in a venue five times the size: however much they’ve toned down the racket, he is still a phenomenally powerful drummer. And, truth be told, they’re a phenomenally powerful band. Having slipped out a few singles in recent months, perhaps we can now hope for the long-awaited new album showcasing their current sound.

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