A surprise drop of another 18 bands? Are we sure it’s late October and not Christmas?

Three weeks to the day of Slam Dunk’s first 2027 announcement, and the second’s already here? While some other festivals haven’t even announced the date of their release, let alone the release itself, the people over at Slam Dunk have seen fit to announced ANOTHER 18 names. 

Up first, joining Simple Plan, Bowling For Soup,  Killswitch Engage, Beartooth, Sleeping With Sirens, The Used, and all of the other 23 names announced at the end of September, is none other than the iconic, anthemic, legendary throwback of Cobra Starship! Returning to the UK for the first time in seventeen years as an exclusive UK appearance, it certainly wasn’t on our Bingo card, but you’ve got to love it all the same. And, despite not being away for quite as long — they played London’s OVO Arena Wembley back in July with fellow Slam Dunk favourites Alexisonfire — Canada’s Billy Talent are back in Hatfield and Leeds, returning after subheadlining in 2023; funnily enough, they clashed with Bowling For Soup then, who are obviously also coming back three years later. Spooky!

Other than those two big’uns, the festival as a whole is getting a touch up. On the punk, Bowling For Soup-and-Simple Plan side? Think rising stars The Paradox and the new ska collective, The Family Business Ltd. For Killswitch Engage’s section of the poster? Amira Elfeky, whose appearance on I Prevail’s recent UK-run was sadly cancelled; the Nevada-based sister duo of The Pretty Wild; the Parisian metalcore band Novelists; the masked nu-metallers of BLACKGOLD; and, last but not least, the Berlin-based post-hardcore outfit of Future Palace. 

Onto the next presumed stage now, over in Sleeping With Sirens and The Used. Other than the aforementioned Billy Talent and Cobra Starship, of course, there’s still a duo of fresh faces: Forever The Sickest Kids and The Haunt! Which leaves the ‘The Front Bottoms stage’ getting the lion’s share of additions: seven names to get even more excited for! The biggest announcement of course being that of Superheaven finally making their Slam Dunk debut. Better late than never! Add on emo favourites Joyce Manor; Ben Quad, a relative newcomer but someone sure to become a firm favourite; Games We Play, a group signed to Fall Out Boy’s Pete Wentz’s DCD2 Records who seem to blend midwestern emo themes with unrelenting pop positivity; newer pop punk trio Super Sometimes; German emo-punk outfit Shoreline; and, finally, the new project Car Underwater, the members of which are pretty much all from one band or another that you probably have on your playlist. 

But that’s not all. For anyone wanting the full festival experience, who aren’t making the trek from Hatfield to Leeds Saturday night to make it to both days at least, your prayers have been answered! For 2027, Slam Dunk also introduces camping for the first time in its history. It’s sure to be slightly limited in this inaugural edition, but a number of pitches will be available at both Leeds Temple Newsam and Hatfield Park, including campervan pitches and pre-pitched tent options, that are walkable to the festival. They open at 4pm the day before the festival and close at 12pm the day after, so fans can get to Hatfield or Leeds the day before, have a catch up with some friends, maybe a drink or two, and then sleep in the knowledge that when they wake up it’ll be show time.

A little something for everyone to get excited for — plus, if bands keep getting announced at the same rate, there’ll be another 160 odd bands on the poster by late May! 

Long live pop punk and long live Slam Dunk.

Words by James O’Sullivan

Lo-fi London rockers heavy wild have just released their sophomore EP 'Paradise Forever' via Submarine Cat Records.

With a strikingly more darker and bigger sound, while more fully honing the lo-fi aesthetic which has become their signature. Sonically, the record is a mix of fuzzed out basslines, chaotic noise-rock guitars and swirling de-tuned synths, which provide the vessel for Harte’s introspective lyricism and emotive vocals to draw the listener in. Lyrically, the record sees songwriter, Wolfgang Harte digging deeper into the existential themes of 2025’s debut EP, Death Dreams, interrogating ideas of lost youth, changing identities, broken relationships, grief and self-destructive behaviour. These lyrical themes are well reflected in the sonics of the record which feel bruised and chaotic, helping to build a cohesive world for the listener to step inside. Pounding drums and soaring synth lines create a constant feeling of tension and simmering frustration throughout the EP which explode in places into cathartic, euphoric phases which help take the EP into grander territory while still retaining the lo-fi integrity of the project.

Due to headline the Lexington in London this week - the band took a moment to talk to us about how the EP came together.

Hey there, how are you? So your EP is out now – how does it feel to have it out there?
In lots of ways, releasing music always feels more like an ending than a beginning! For fans it’s the first time hearing the tracks but for us, at the point the music comes on we’ve lived with these songs for months and months and heard them thousands of times – so it’s always very freeing to finally have them out in the world but then the mind turns to what’s next and gets excited for ‘new’ music – and the cycle repeats!

It is called ‘Paradise Forever' – what is the meaning behind that?
Was intended as a kind of antithesis to the John Milton poem ‘Paradise Lost’  but was also a response to a religious sermon about how without God’s forgiveness one can never enter paradise – I got obsessed with listening to lots of like vintage religious sermon’s and actually sampled this particular one on the EP track ‘paradise’ 

Where was it recorded? Any behind the scenes stories you are willing to share with us?
Recorded at Third Floor Recordings in Camberwell by my very dear friend and exceptional producer Paolo Ruiu... when we first started working on it in January of 2025 we were going through a crazy cold spell in London and it was fucking freezing in the studio, so I think lots of the tracks ended up gaining a few bpm simply because we were trying to play faster and stay warm

What are the key influences behind the EP?
Musically, the main driver was to achieve a very honest, lo-fi sound and to also capture or hold onto the energy of the original demos so there’s lots of stuff from my shitty GarageBand demos that made it onto the final versions which is cool

If the EP could be a soundtrack to any film – which one and why?
I mean I’d love to see a version of True Romance with all these tracks playing instead… 

Do you have a favourite lyric on the EP? If so, which one and why?
In the track nightmare I say ‘ the house inside too empty, still too filled with you’ it’s about being at home again after my mom died…was so fucking weird to be in a place that so strongly embodies a person and they aren’t there… whenever I sing that life I can remember that feeling vividly – I spent a lot of time in the garden because it just felt overwhelming to be in the house. 

Now the EP is out there – what next for you?
We have an EP release show at The Lexington Oct 27th which is our final show of the year and then we’ll shortly be announcing a tour for early 2027… 

On a single released a couple of week before Halloween, the horror-movie style sound collage at the beginning of HOWDYPARTNER, coupled with the undoubtedly weird cover artwork, seems to offer an unsettling piece of spooky-season black magic. However as the song progresses, with it’s shifting bassline and cutting social commentary, DOSS reveal something altogether more profound. Theirs is a sardonic approach to the absurdity of existence, something which is altogether more challenging than any jump-scare slasher flick.

With spiky punk rock guitar, minimalist razzy horns, and an intro which takes up two thirds of the song, DOSS show they are certainly not a group to act with any kind of orthodoxy on HOWDYPARTNER. A song which, as the band state themselves, is an observation on life through the lens of Martin Heidegger’s “Thrownness” philosophical framework, was always going to be tumultuous with an undercurrent of intellectualism. The idea that we are thrown into the world with no choice in the matter, and that we must deal with existence as such, is expressed ever-so deftly through DOSS and their genre-splitting style.

Singer Sorley Mackay’s Glaswegian vocal tone is a comfortable fit for this structurally chaotic piece, his words ground HOWDYPARTNER, giving you something to hold on to as the song unfolds. It’s one of those tunes that sounds completely different than it did 20 seconds ago at any given point; it builds to a huge drop as drummer Chilton Fawcett awaits his cue patiently behind the kit, ready to switch from restrained ride cymbal syncopation to heavy rock and roll pounding. The explosion of sound with around a minute left on the runtime finally announces the full melodic scope of HOWDYPARTNER, relieving the tension as the song levels out at cruising altitude. This moment must be utterly electric at their already-famed frenetic live shows. Life may be absurd, but there’s no denying a solid guitar riff.

There’s some wonderfully simple rhyming here which illustrates such a heavy concept in terms easy to understand. Mackay talks of being torn from his mother’s arms, “folorn and filled with scorn” as he observes people who have it all “But still their faces sat with furrows of worry.” These lyrics are right on the surface, and are catchy enough to sit in your mind for days after a couple of listens. While there is a lot of unrest on HOWDYPARTNER, (and a nice little drop of misanthropy), the song is ultimately uplifting, and delivered with pathos. It’s a simple message - You didn’t choose to be alive, so why try to find meaning? Let’s share in our pain and confusion, because “no matter what, you still die scared and alone.”

Words by Adam Davidson

Through perspiration and perseverance, Guilt Trip have hand-crafted not only the perfect tour lineup but the perfect encapsulation of everything it means to exist within the hardcore ecosystem on their recent run of shows.

The Bristol date on this gigantic voyage across the UK and Europe was the final stop for the Manchester five-piece before heading out to the European mainland. This meant one thing and one thing only: energy, and boy did they have that in spades. This run of sets encapsulated a really magical and reflective moment, one that is often lost between the notes of riffs and the sweat of the pit. The hive-mind mentality of a hardcore show creates a perfect oneness between the stage and the crowd, regardless of status or celebrity within the genre; every show that graces that stage is met with the same feral adoration as the headliner, something that is often missing from music. This lack of ego and eccentricity allows for the real version of everyone to pour out, be it the bassist giving himself whiplash, the pit enforcer spin-kicking his way through the crowd or the guy at the back singing along; everyone expresses themselves in this beautifully cohesive manner for an entire evening of unpredictability and punishingly heavy music. 

The first two support acts did a fantastic job of getting the room warm and immediately cutting the crowd off from the outside world. The second the lights dimmed and Long Goodbye took centre stage, that droning feedback awoke something within the stagnant crowd and encouraged vicious movement from bell to bell. They tore through songs from their entire catalogue, pushing the limits of what a human voice can do when it comes to gutturals, interwoven with the occasional message of deeply personal and scathing lyrical content, cutting through the sound almost as if it were unintentional, yet perfectly placed. The sound they cultivated was a spectacular assault on the senses and compiled a medley of stylings from surrounding hardcore genres to create a sound comprised of equal parts panic chord and panic attack, one that was perfectly summed up by the frontman proclaiming they were ‘commentators for violence’ as the rest of the band perpetually beat their instruments within an inch of their lives. The second band to set foot on stage was Sydney slugger, Justice for the Damned. Hailing from the very same scene that birthed the absolute powerhouse SPEED, Justice for the Damned showed us exactly why the Australian scene is so internationally revered, with their infinitely brutal and piercing slam style sowing the seeds of destruction from the get-go, all while being some of the most polite and friendly people you could ever meet. This feeling of oneness and connectivity was further exemplified with every band that passed as bodies piled into the front and added dense layers of sweat-laden steam to the air. This transfer of energy was a continual two-way street, as the more the band swung at the air and hammered their way through gliding pinch harmonics and dive bombs, the more the crowd two-stepped enough to shift a tectonic plate. Their breakdown and riff-heavy style was a perfect example of the way that each area of the world, right down to the city, changes the effect it has on the music that lives within it and Justice for the Damned could not have been a better choice to represent the other side of the world.

Our final opener also hailed from across the pond, bringing a patented rowdy and Americanised hardcore style from Texas, Judiciary. Often seen as the birthplace of the scene that has continued to spread its roots throughout the world, American hardcore has had plenty of time to grow and build its identity, and Judiciary feels like a current final product of this evolution; their tight and bludgeoning instrumentation leans perfectly into the cultivated emotional yet steadfast lyricism, and their live shows bring nothing but unfiltered violence and joy to a room. Judiciary pulled songs from each section of their catalogue to rally people to the dance floor for their full thirty-five-minute set and did so effortlessly. While it is evident that insurmountable amounts of care went into the structuring of the performance, everything seemed to flow as if it were simply the natural order of the energy being thrown at the crowd. The varying international styles made a real impact on my perception of the wider scene, as it truly promotes the togetherness that hardcore brings: no matter where you’re from or how you got here, in these walls you belong. Each musical style forms a sort of accent around its instrumentation and is a real part of the reason that these bands represent their local scenes till their dying breaths, and no one does this better than our headline band. 

Guilt Trip have been a long-standing bastion of British and particularly Northern hardcore for a reason now, that being their unrelenting passion and love for their scene, and every local scene around the world. Guilt Trip feel like a true international ambassador of the genre and could not be any more real if they tried. This deep and intrinsic honesty has led to not only some of the best hardcore projects from the UK to date but also an absolute explosion in popularity over the last 3 years. They have firmly grasped this surge in popularity and used it to put on some terrifyingly high-octane performances, but also to carry their home colours everywhere they go and preach the power of supporting local bands and helping our scene flourish and continue to be the place that everyone deserves. Be it band member or crowd member, everyone in that room is just as important as each other, and Guilt Trip wear this with pride. This pride pours into their performance, creating that aforementioned hive mind of you jump, I jump, allowing them to make the night exactly what they want it to be, and that almost always ends with mosh pits and a powerhouse performance. 

Opening their first half of the set with some new tracks from ‘Armour of Angels’, the crowd immediately picked up what the band were putting down and wasted no time in beating the life out of each other; the incessant calls for more destruction and energy throughout tracks like ‘One By One’ and ‘Burn’ helped to propel the crowd past excited and into pure pandemonium. Every element of their performance right from the off was delicately perfected; being this far into a tour, Bristol truly got Guilt Trip at their best, with the drumming and rhythm sections intercutting perfectly with the shared vocal parts and the disgustingly intense lead lines that continually poured from Sam Baker and Jak Maden; this only amplified itself the further through the tracklist they went. It was great to see that the new material is excellently received by the crowd, as they have remained true to their roots of writing songs you can hurt your friends to, whilst also gaining more artistic licence and creative ingenuity as time has passed. The long run of songs from their 2023 album ’Severance’ also helped whip the crowd into a frenzy early on, with the album’s title track and ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ being tremendous standouts from the opening half of their set.

As the set ran on and the band continued to hypnotise with their monolithic instrumentals, Guilt Trip took the time over and over again to the security and venue staff, as well as convincing wary crowd members to rep their local scenes and show them what Bristol was all about. As it became clear that there would be no encore and that they would continue on this all-out tirade, many people stepped up to the challenge, creating this new and anxious energy of excitement and an unforgettable experience. This energy was kept alive with innumerable bangers from the back catalogue, including ‘Guilt Trip’ and ’Unrelenting Force ’, before signalling the end with ‘The Banner of Heaven’. Finally, it was time for the definitive crowd favourite ‘Thin Ice’. Rarely has a crowd reacted in such an animalistic manner to a track announcement, but the second that Jay Valentine stepped off of that stage and met the crowd at the barrier, an eruption of limbs and crowd surfers reverberated through the entire crowd, from the sound desk to the very front; everyone was moving in vibrant elation and using the space to do exactly what they needed it to do for them. As the house lights came on, every crowd member either picked their jaw up from the floor or panted in unison after leaving both their hearts and their lungs on the venue floor.

Having shown the true joy and power of the hardcore scene at full force, Guilt Trip reminded everyone in that room that this very unique, very alive, very tangible thing is something that we all have in our home town, be it in a dingy back room, a run-down pub, or a venue like Electric. You can engage with hardcore at every level and Guilt trip, and everyone that they brought along for the ride have undoubtedly reminded countless individuals with a two-step-sized hole in their hearts that it can be filled through the power of very shouty music.

Words by Josh Pook

“You’ll never be alone again”, sings Mancunian’s finest wordsmith Antony Szmierek, and it’s hard to argue with him after a joyous night filled with dancing in a sold-out Kentish Town Forum to his garage beats and spoken-word. Nobody felt alone that night, that’s for sure. 

Mancunian artist Antony Szmierek brought his incredible blend of spoken word and electronic dance music to a sold-out Kentish Town Forum on Thursday night for an evening full of joy and sweaty dancing. Having released his second album. Decoding Birdsong, only a couple of months ago, this tour was primarily dedicated to that album, however, Szmierek was sure to include some other fan favourites, as well as bringing out some surprise guests throughout the evening, including support act Ellur, who was exceptional to watch both before and with the main man. 

The charismatic Ellur, aka Ella McNamara, opened the evening, commanding the stage with an air of grace and confidence. The indie artist, hailing from Halifax, performed a number of songs from her debut album, At Home In My Mind, which she released this year, along with a couple of older singles. With her undeniable talent and infectious, joyous energy, Ellur warmed up the ever-growing crowd, preparing everyone for the party Antony Szmierek was about to start. 

Antony Szmierek, along with his live band, kicked off the show with high-energy track Chalk, the opener of Decoding Birdsong, in a blur of blue and red lights that immediately had the crowd dancing. Szmierek’s energy is instantly infectious, electric, the crowd feeds off it, their own energy filling back up the poet’s cup so that no one is ever left feeling depleted. Even those seated on the balcony are on their feet before the first song has ended: “I’m on the edge yeah cause and effect / could be my big break / rather play my best and lose / than be like you, mate.” Much like on the album itself, Chalk blends seamlessly into The Heron, a shimmering, upbeat track that keeps the momentum in the room building. As Szmierek croons “you’ll never be alone again, my love”, it feels as if he really means it, that he’s speaking to each person in the room individually. 

The 80s-influenced synths and bluesy basslines of Yoga Teacher are met with cheers from the crowd; this no longer feels like a gig but a nightclub dancefloor, with the haze and lights and the sway of moving bodies. Szmierek is everyone’s yoga teacher here, encouraging us all to let go, “breathe in / hold / release.” He’s a master at commanding the crowd, all eyes on him as he floats around the stage…years of teaching teenagers coming into play here. Los Bitchos’ Serra Petale joins the Manchester wordsmith for the garage-esque Seminal, which is nothing short of incredible to witness live. It’s impossible not to admire Szmierek’s penmanship, the subtleties hidden throughout: “I’m feeling good, I’m fine thanks, you? / it’s just God removed the ladder / and I’m drowning in the pool.” Anyone who played The Sims as a child, and therefore played God, knows exactly what Szmierek is referring to. 

The energy Szmierek has built never seems to drop; he has cocooned the entirety of the Forum in his chaotic, gorgeous, sweltering bubble, and we’re all very happy to be there. He’s a natural hype man, encouraging his audience to dance, isn’t afraid to get stuck in with the crowd…throws himself into the middle of it a number of times and trusts them enough to crowdsurf him back to the stage. Ellur joins him for Bookies Favourite, where she also features on the album, and she’s not the last guest of the evening. Szmierek is joined by Imogen and the Knife for recent single, Flight Simulator. The performance is transcendent, ethereal, with the artist’s rhythmic spoken word working seamlessly with Imogen’s dreamy vocals on the chorus. 

An infectious joy and sense of hope quite frankly pours from Antony Szmierek, who is encouraging, caring for those around him. Before he begins The Great Pyramid of Stockport, he offers a word of advice for anyone who had a shit day at work…”this is your sign to quit tomorrow.” While before Decoding Birdsong, he encourages the audience to “tell people you love them…tell strangers around you tonight that you love them.” That is the gorgeous thing about Szmierek, his ability to create a sense of connection in a room full of thousands of strangers. And everyone danced together with him under hazy lights, “one for sorrow / two for love / you can tell me everything.” 

Before anyone realised it, the show was coming to an end. The slow, static beats of Aussie Gold Hunters begin, Szmierek standing in a circle of gold light, “I’ve never known so many people / but I’m on my own quite a lot…/ things change today I feel it.” It is a track that has stood out to me personally on the album, but was staggering in its beauty live. When he ends the song, Szmierek reminds the crowd that you might go through tough times, but there’s always a fresh start, there’s always tomorrow…and leads his devoted audience in a New Year’s Eve style countdown to that new beginning. Before his final goodbye, he makes sure to call out the Cornell 7, pleads with, and encourages the many men in his audience to be part of a change, to create safe spaces for women and queer people not only in a gig setting, but in the world outside of the venue. To close out his show, he leads everyone in one big final dance party to Rafters, and it feels spiritual, healing...for the crowd and the poet himself. 

There are some gigs that stay with you long after they're over, and Antony Szmierek’s is one of those. An hour and a half went by in the blink of an eye because of the energy, joy and safety that Szmierek brought with him. Everyone seemed lighter at the end of it, a twinkle in their eye, the Forum filled with laughter as the crowd slowly dispersed. He’s created something truly beautiful and healing with his music, and if you ever get the chance to see Antony Szmierek live, then take it immediately.  

Words by Angela English

Back to the drawing board or serrated riffs and verbose effect compilations, Cleopatrick have returned to form with new single ’WHAAT’

While they have perpetually been the musical equivalent of herding cats when it comes to settling down in a familiar and distinct sound, Cleopatrick have spun the wheel once again n and created a modernistic rendition of their intrinsically sharp and weighted sound of old. ‘WHAAT’ is a tightly wound and vicious instrumental, something that feels like home to the average Cleopatrick fan, grounding itself in its instrumental dichotomy of elegant, coded progression and harsh, rasping face value sounds. Before the lyrics blow the hinges off of this track it creates an air of safety, this is what we as fans know the band to be, no matter how fantastic their previous album ‘Fake Moon’, yet another mesmerising deviation from their traditional sound, this virile and animalistic nature is baked into the very DNA of the band and yet again they usurp us with a Julian Casablancas level auto tune performance, using the effect not to pitch correct like some second rate pop-rap artist but as an alteration of its own, adding layers of discordant tension and surrealism to the song that we have yet to see from them.

This track has been sought after for a while, as Cleopatrick are notorious for showing up, reinventing their own proverbial wheel and then disappearing into the aether for a while until it’s time to do it all again and clearly this new iteration has tumbled in armed to the teeth with this precocious blend of blueprinted countercultural sounds, becoming one great blend of distorted strings and scornful hyper-noise style voicing. Thankfully, this conductor of spite and angst will soon be heard from stages around the world, as Cleopatrick has announced alongside this track a US, European, UK and Canadian tour starting in March of next year to help push this new sound out to their wider audience.

It's great to see new releases emanating from this Canadian alternative heavy hitter, as no matter your preconceived notion of their sound, every time they appear it’s a surprise. This element of surprise and suspense has given way to an almost cryptid and mythical energy around the band, as they have previously been either radio silent or conquering the scene, so it's great to finally be in the latter part of that cycle once more; hopefully this new blend of corrosive and expanded sound can bring an all-new string to their already multifaceted bow.

Words by Josh Pook

There’s no venue quite like The Cluny, with its history and reputation as well as its programme of incredible bands trotting through its doors every day of the week. On Sunday it was Quiet Houses’ turn, with support from May Payne they won over the hearts of their fans, existing and new.

The Cluny 2 has a way of bringing crowds closer, and Quiet Houses made sure their audience was stuck to the front of the stage throughout the night. The four-piece have carved out a piece of the industry for themselves over the past however many years, writing soft and heartfelt indie anthems filled with poetic storylines. The band was supported by singer songwriter May Payne, who reminded us very much of north east-based artist Melanie Baker. Artist-that-doesn’t-fit-a-label May Payne performed a number of powerful short stories mostly driven by love and heartbreak, all rather relatable.

May Payne was the perfect person to warm up the crowd for the soft angelic sounds of Quiet Houses, fronted by duo Hannah Elliott and Jamie Stewart. They’ve always had a knack for weaving relatable narratives into beautifully shimmering soundscapes. While their recorded material captures a delicate balance of alternative folk melancholy and pop hooks, seeing the dynamic and hearing the songs live, brought another layer of depth to those wandering sounds. Elliott and Stewart have been together for a very long time, which is something you can hear, see, and feel when experiencing them perform their life’s work live.

From the first chords, a calm landed within the room, their audience had clearly been doing their homework, many singing along to every word, even the most recent releases. Elliott’s vocal delivery was breathtakingly precise and worked beautifully well with the band’s intricate soundscapes. The duo performed a few songs together, which highlighted their vocal harmonies even more, however it was nice to return to a slightly more upbeat band sound to eventually end the evening on. We collectively held our breath as Quiet Houses brought their compelling live performance, they showed off how their music does not need flashy production and how strong song writing can still carry all the weight.

Their setlist flowed like the water, moved between introspective moments and energetic, driving hooks that had us all swaying along. Every lyric felt like it came directly from the heart, delivered with genuine intention, and bridged the gap between the stage and the audience, as if we were all one, and part of the performance. Quite early on Hannah mentioned how smiley her crowd was and it seemed she genuinely didn’t realise we simply mirrored what we saw on stage. By the time the final chords had faded out, the Newcastle crowd slowly woke up from their Quiet Houses-induced trance, and the band had won over a few more plus ones that could have never prepared for the wonderful evening they’d walked into.

It wasn't just a concert; it was an invitation into a rich, colourful world that left everyone in attendance reluctant to step back out into the cold night air.

Words by Laura Rosierse
Photography by Celia Medina

The Avalanches turn old TV ads into their most ambitious album yet.

The Avalanches have always worked in fragments, and on No Bad Memories they've gone bigger than ever, 31 tracks across their first album in six years, the Australian trio's fourth full length since their 2000's debut Since I Left You. The concept this time is pure childhood nostalgia turned inside out, the band digging through old jingles, adverts and corporate ephemera and flipping them into something warmer. They explained:

"Revisiting imagery and jingles from childhood and realising how profoundly they have stuck. Taking these sound sources from within the heart of this kinda corporate framework and flipping the fragments into our own kind of joyous pop music.”

With their thirtieth year in the industry approaching, a 31 track mammoth of an album somehow makes perfect sense. 'Bd-R' opens things on pure ambience, setting the slightly unhinged tone for everything that follows, before 'Together', featuring Nikki Nair, Jessy Lanza and Prentiss, launches straight into a relentless house groove, glossy keys and a chanty chorus giving the whole project its blueprint, chipmunk vocals on the outro adding to the glitchy, Nintendo level feel of it all. That corporate jingle concept becomes obvious fast, with interludes like 'Xerox Altalink B8055', 'Friends Forever' and 'Logoland' scattered throughout like adverts between songs, short, strange and very much the point rather than filler, even if their sheer number eventually starts to test the endurance of the listener.

The fully-fleshed out songs are where the album earns its reputation. 'I Give Everything I Have 2 U' is a smooth, synth laced earworm, while previously released single 'Every Single Weekend', featuring Jamie xx, keeps that chanty, feel good energy rolling with real warmth. 'Blue Shadows' slows things down for Karen O, her voice taking precedence in an album that's constantly demanding your attention from every direction, and 'Like Clockwork / Hit By Traffic', featuring Khadija Al Hanafi, bursts between vocal snippets and addictive drums before settling into a genuinely captivating piano outro. 'All The Time In The World', with Rivers Cuomo, Vegyn and Baby Marlboro, is one of the clear highlights, its looping outro, "we got all the time in the world," landing as one of the most purely joyful moments on the record.

Further in, 'Vida', featuring Erick the Architect, segues in on blaring horns and a great flow over genuinely chaotic sound design, while lead single 'Far Away', with John Glacier and Khadija Al Hanafi, is one of the album's most beautifully produced moments, gorgeous piano work showcasing the trio's production chops at their most refined. 'Can't Get Over Losing You', another single, hands the spotlight to Portraits Of Tracy, who floats effortlessly over stellar production and makes the song entirely her own, no small feat on a tracklist this stacked. 'Highfield', featuring Panda Bear, brings a wholesome, childlike softness that fits his voice perfectly, and 'Under Yr Power' delivers one of the best hooks on the whole album, genuinely rebellious and affirming in equal measure.

The back half keeps the quality coming even as the interludes (or adverts) keep multiplying. 'One More Fantasy', featuring Carly Simon, is smooth top down, wind in your hair stuff, her high pitched vocal a lovely surprise this deep into the tracklist. 'Magic Wand', featuring Barry Can't Swim, is one of the best moments on the entire record, tension building in the intro before the drum groove takes over completely. The title track ‘No Bad Memories’ returns to that filtered groove from earlier before taking on a life of its own, a genuine culmination of everything that's come before, and 'Our Love Is Alive', bringing Barry Can't Swim back alongside Suzanne Ciani, delivers an unavoidable feel good payoff as the record enters its final stretch.

‘Total Recall', featuring Mike Patton, leans back into strange, horn laced ambience, while 'Final Credits', featuring Loaded Honey, feels noticeably more fleshed out than most of what's come before it, a smooth, jazzy l moment for the penultimate song. Closer 'The Pavements Light', with Haruomi Hosono, brings everything down to a calm, soft landing, what sounds like a Sinatra sample drifting in right at the end, a fitting way to close out such a nuanced, chaotic & maximalist project.

There's an almost impossible amount going on across No Bad Memories, and no single listen does it justice, the sheer scale of the guest list alone, from Barry Can't Swim to Haley Joel Osment, keeping the album constantly unpredictable. Where it falls down slightly is in just how many interludes are packed between the real songs. Although it is ostensibly pertinent to the album’s narrative, these moments often feel more like ideas for songs than anything that meaningfully adds to the overarching narrative of No Bad Memories. Even so, there's no shortage of genuine highlights buried across these 31 tracks, and nearly three decades in, The Avalanches still sound like nobody else making music right now.

Words by Alex Peters

Heartbreak, sobriety and self forgiveness: Rachel Chinouriri grows up in public.

We've all had that moment at a party, alone in the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feeling yanked into something closer to an existential vortex. That's the entry point for Rachel Chinouriri's sophomore album, I Think I Spoke Too Soon, the South London artist's follow up to her brilliant 2024 debut What A Devastating Turn of Events, a record that earned her two BRIT nominations and an army of fans who hang on her every riff. Two years, a run of tours alongside Sabrina Carpenter, Lewis Capaldi and Florence and the Machine, and a full year of sobriety later, she returns with an album that plays out like one long, turbulent night out, the kind that shifts your whole world on its axis and tells you a few uncomfortable truths about yourself along the way. It's a deeply autobiographical account of her life between 22 and 27, Rachel describing the shift bluntly: 

"In my early 20s, I was so self assured of who I was, then my frontal lobe hit and I went, nah, I'm actually not that person." 

With Gracie Abrams and a slot on Olivia Rodrigo's first ever festival lined up alongside the album campaign, it arrives at a genuinely pivotal moment for her.

'One Song Away From Crying' sets that scene immediately, a glossy synth pop opener that wouldn't feel out of place soundtracking an episode of Miami Vice, Rachel's idiosyncratic vocals gliding effortlessly over an insatiable groove, that unwanted feeling of crying in the club and soldiering on regardless. 'Pretty Girls' keeps that infectious energy going, her voice softening while a rampant drum line fleshes the track out, built for hazy, half cut dancing. 'Baby Steps' slows things into something dreamier, a floaty ambience letting her tenderness take the lead, "remind me why you're doing this" landing as a genuinely passionate lyric.

From there the record gets more sobering. 'Favourite Desperation' takes a laidback approach as Rachel lays out her worries about a lover, "it's scary but i kind of like it" summing up that familiar apprehension, the fear of being without someone you already know isn't good for you. 'I'm a Star' flips the mood with a whimsical, entrancing chorus and a surprising amount of thrashing guitar, simple on the surface but genuinely profound underneath, and 'AAAHHH!!!' pushes that rock streak further into punk territory, distortion smeared across her vocals for the most abrasive, rebellious moment on the album.

'Broken Chair' is one of the clear highlights, a previously released single built around a brilliant piece of imagery, the post-party clarity of realising you're not as together as you thought, mapped onto a literal broken chair and all its imperfections. "it's getting really hard to love her" is a crushing lyric, and the synth work here is one of the best musical moments on the whole project. 'Shiver' keeps the focus grounded and inward, another deeply impassioned look at her own self doubt, some lovely vocal layering adding extra weight. 'Make Believe', billed by Rachel herself as her sexy song, fits neatly into the album's wider narrative, proof that doubting someone has never been enough to stop you going back to them, a terrible cycle to be stuck in.

As the record winds down, 'Parasite' turns swirling and almost haunting, one of the most devastating moments on the album, "what am i doing?" launching it into a groovier passage as the realisation properly sets in that something here is wrong. 'The Good Fight', the penultimate track, sums up the whole album's central frustration in one song. Being somewhere you know you don't want to be, stuck in conversations that don't serve you and wanting more out of life without the power to change it. It's one of the best tracks here, and sonically one of the most brilliant too. Then comes 'Crash This Car', an outro that pulls every thread of the record together, all that wishing and hoping finally given its best possible vehicle, exploding into a genuinely cathartic release as Rachel realises hoping for something better was never going to be enough on its own.

I Think I Spoke Too Soon is a title that captures the whole album's angst perfectly. Across an eclectic run of tracks, Rachel transforms her insecurities into something passionate, well written and ultimately affirming. 

"My core thing is you can change who you are at any moment, and you can forgive yourself at any moment.”

That sense of growth, plus a year of sobriety stitched into nearly every lyric here, comes through loud and clear in the songwriting itself. As far as sophomore albums go, Rachel isn't letting her foot off the gas, and I Think I Spoke Too Soon, out 16th October via Parlophone, is another genuinely excellent project to add to an already impressive run.

Words by Alex Peters

Doom, dystopia and a sense of hope that feels scarily out of reach in Dopamine Chamber sees Fontaines D.C. cementing themselves not just as one of the best, but as THE best there is.

When they released Dogrel in 2019, Fontaines D.C., five lads from Ireland, hardly imagined that they’d eventually become one of the biggest bands in the world. They’ve been on a steady climb toward world domination ever since, taking their grungy, post-punk guitars and adding their own unique twists and tweaks through A Hero’s Death and Skinty Fia. Their fourth album, Romance, saw them spinning their familiar sound completely on its head. With neon colours, daydream synths and genius lyrical prose, Romance skyrocketed the band to otherworldly heights. Now, with their fifth album Dopamine Chamber, Fontaines D.C. have embraced their lost anonymity. Doom, dystopia and a sense of hope that feels scarily out of reach in Dopamine Chamber sees Fontaines D.C. cementing themselves not just as one of the best, but as THE best there is.

With Dopamine Chamber, Fontaines D.C. - made up of Grian Chatten, Carlos O’Connell, Conor Curley, Conor Deegan (Deego) and Tom Coll - focus in on the current destruction of humanity, the takeover of AI, the dystopia of watching war crimes happening on our phone screens alongside memes and promotions for fat loss jabs and Botox. With eerie synths, blistering guitars and ominous drums leading the charge, combined with frontman Grian Chatten’s distinct vocals and powerful penmanship, Dopamine Chamber, in the words of Chatten, is a “catastrophic warning.”  

Six Shot Morning opens the album: an array of dreamlike synths with an ominous undertone, Chatten’s voice cutting through it, militant drums joining in, “fist in the air but you don’t ask why…/ silicon valley took a photograph…/ you and I living for a million years.” A striking portrayal of the grasp social media has on society, and how people are influenced by what they see on their phone. First single from the album Marianne follows; it feels heavier still, darker than Six Shot Morning. The crash of the drums, woozy guitars and feather-light synth sounds, with the breathy, beckoning vocals, turn the song into a hypnotic piece: “you should come and stay here / you can follow my lead / I can help you disappear.” An invitation to escape into the world of Fontaines D.C. and their Dopamine Chamber, instead of the small screens we are so accustomed to.

The five-piece dangle hope like a carrot to their listeners, but never hand it over completely, and honestly, why should they, when the world feels much like a black hole these days. “I felt it would be more powerful to leave the hope out and reflect the ugliness honestly,” Chatten said. “Give me something to hope for, and then I’ll write that album.” It’s refreshing for a band to admit they’re also struggling with the world we’re living in, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make hopelessness completely unenjoyable. Mimesis is an 80s synth-pop wonderland track, the doom and gloom of it all hidden behind light, disco beats. It’s an immediately infectious track, crawling under your skin without warning: “you feel like something in your head is dead inside / for real, well everybody’s depressed / we’re running on a wheel.” 

Happy For You, a track about the disintegration of a toxic relationship, sees the group return back to their roots. Opening with the grungy twang of guitars, and Grian’s breathy vocals, it’s a track that feels like it could slot somewhere into Skinty Fia. While grungy-electronica Demolition has the spiky synth undertones from the beginning, the drone of the guitars and fast pace of the drums feel like another nod to the band’s past and where it all began. It must be said that it’s evident in this track and throughout the album that Chatten has really mastered his voice, has learnt to push it to its limit without it ever sounding or feeling forced. The rapid pace in Tongue, which is equal parts terrifying and thrilling, is proof of that, as is One Man. The latter has an eerie, dystopian feel to it from the beginning: the sound of children playing, along with the haunting addition of the strings, almost chill-inducing, while the vocals drawl and swirl, building alongside the strings, climbing to a peak as the strum of a guitar enters, “Dopamine chamber just trying to kill the pain / You can’t escape the feeling once you’ve given it a name.”

Each track elevates Dopamine Chamber further, just when you think Fontaines D.C. have reached their peak, the next song plays and leaves you starstruck once more. Where Is Gone? with ROSALÍA is a spellbinding, lovelorn ballad. The crushing guitars, the pull of the violin strings, and the Spanish popstar’s vocals blend seamlessly with Chatten’s spiky Irish tones to give this song an elegant, classic sound. While creating a dystopian dreamscape throughout the album, Fontaines D.C. are sure to never let synths take over completely. You Miss Me is a quirky blend of eerie, fuzzy 90s-esque guitars and drums, and a classic 90s pop ballad, but with an underlying ominous sound. While Japan is a striking acoustic number focusing on a one-sided relationship.

Dopamine Chamber opened with otherworldly synths, so it feels only right that Fontaines D.C. close the album in a similar fashion. The sci-fi, alien-like synth sounds and booming vocals crash together with fiery drums and guitars in the final track, Intimate, which leaves you feeling on edge, breathless. Fontaines D.C. quite literally have created their own Dopamine Chamber with this album, and it feels like a better one to get lost in than the one that’s offered to you on a phone. “The album itself is a dopamine chamber,” Chatten says. “You step inside, and we test these different mind- or mood-altering pieces of music on you.” 

Dopamine Chamber is the perfect example as to why Fontaines D.C. are now one of the greatest bands of their generation. It’s a journey from start to finish, one that pushes boundaries, pulls apart emotions and leaves you begging for more.

Words by Angela English

Don Broco at Outernet: big hooks, old rarities and a crowd that didn’t need phones.

Don Broco know exactly what they are: a band built on big, loud and catchy choruses. Nearly twenty years into their career, the Bedford four-piece took the Outernet stage on Monday night with nothing left to prove and played like they were having the time of their lives. The set was high-energy and cleverly balanced, mixing the newer material with the songs that first made their name, all delivered with the confidence of a band who have done this with enough experience. They didn’t open with a bang, instead, the guitarist walked out alone and started a solo, leaving the crowd hanging for a few moments before the rest of the band piled in one by one. It was a simple bit of theatre, but it worked. When everyone locked in and launched into “True Believer”, the room went up. Big riffs and a crowd already shouting every word back before the first chorus had properly landed.

The staging was very simple, the lights stuck mostly to red and white, pulsing along with the music and there were no gimmicks, no giant video walls and no overproduced visuals trying to distract from what was happening on stage. It put the focus only on the band and gave the night a sweaty, club-gig feel that was exactly what the band needed. In an era where so many live shows feel designed primarily for phone cameras, there was something genuinely enjoyable about watching a band trust their songs to carry the room.

Rob Damiani was in chatty and good-humoured between songs. He reminded everyone it had been a while since they played in London: their last show in the city was a promotional gig for the new album, Nightmare Tripping, at Circuit in Kingston back in March. He said London is one of the band’s favourite places to play and even if that kind of line can sound like a throwaway at plenty of gigs, it felt like a pretty genuine shout and the roar that came back suggested the feeling was very much mutual.

The setlist leaned on both old and new, “Somersault”, from the latest record, sat comfortably alongside the older material, proof that the new songs can hold their own next to the ones that built the band’s following. There was no sense of the newer tracks being tolerated while everyone waited for the hits, they were met with the same energy, the same singing and the same willingness to throw themselves around the pit.

Longtime fans got the biggest surprises. “Money Power Fame”, a deep cut from the band’s early days, hadn’t been played live in around five years and the cheer when it kicked in felt like the sound of a crowd that had quietly given up hope of ever hearing it again. Later came “What You Do to Me”, another oldie, which the band cheerfully admitted was seriously old. Hearing both live after so long was a reminder of how good the early material still is, rawer in places, maybe, but full of the same melodic instinct that has carried the band through two decades.

The song everyone seemed to be waiting for was “Gumshield”. Damiani told the crowd to open up a circle pit and the floor happily obliged. It was the loudest, most physical moment of the night and it showed the fans still have plenty of fight in them. There’s something quite special about watching a crowd that knows a band’s catalogue inside out respond to a cue like that without hesitation. No one needed convincing, the pit opened and the room became one chaotic, joyful mess.

What stood out most, though, was something that wasn’t happening. In a crowd aged roughly 18 to 35, you’d expect screens everywhere, phones held through every chorus, filming fragments that will probably never be watched again. But there were hardly any. People just sang, jumped and shoved their way around the pit and it was genuinely refreshing, surely saying a lot about how well Don Broco held a room. This wasn’t an audience documenting a night out, it was an audience actually having one.

My personal highlight was “Cellophane”, a song I love dearly, hearing it live was every bit as good as I’d hoped, delivered with the power and polish that make Don Broco such a dependable live band. It’s one of those tracks that could easily get lost in a set full of bigger, brasher moments, but instead it landed as one of the evening’s most affecting. Damiani’s voice carried it beautifully and the crowd gave it the kind of quiet but full throated attention that only comes when a song really means something to people.

Credit has to go to the two support acts too. Ando San and Unpeople both warmed up the room well, each bringing enough energy to get the early arrivals moving and set the tone for what was to come. They also got a heartfelt shoutout from the headliners, which felt deserved rather than obligatory, always a good sign of a bill that works.

The band came back for an encore of “T-Shirt Song”, a fan favourite that had the whole venue singing along and swinging shirts at full volume, then closed with “Hype Man”, sending everyone out into the London night buzzing and a little hoarse. It was the right ending: euphoric and exactly the sort of song that leaves you grinning on the walk to the tube.

It was Don Broco’s last London show of the year and a great way to finish. The next time the capital sees them, they’ll be opening for Nickelback on a world tour, which should be an interesting pairing and a real chance to win over a whole new audience. If Monday night was anything to go by, they’ll take to it easily.

Until then, this was a gig that showed why they’ve lasted so long. They played with real energy and warmth, dug deep into the back catalogue and let the songs do the work without any visual tricks. No gimmicks, just a band who clearly still love doing this and a crowd who clearly still love them for it. If you’ve been waiting for a reason to see Don Broco live, this was it.

Words by Giorgia Gambilare
Photography by Martina Liberini

Known for bringing music and conversation together - Stornoway have just released their new album 'Beyonder' via Cooking Vinyl.

Born from isolation and exploration, it confronts the biodiversity and climate crises, the rise of divisive politics, and the toll these pressures take on minds and communities. But above all BEYONDER is an album of wild hope, using music to bring people closer to nature and to each other.

BEYONDER began on the highest sea cliffs in Britain. On St Kilda, 100km west of the Outer Hebrides, Briggs stood 430 metres above the Atlantic with no land between him and Canada, surrounded by wheeling fulmars and dive-bombing skuas. "I was in their world, I couldn't survive here for long," he says. A photograph he took that day now forms the album cover and marked the start of a creative rebirth.

At a time when the world can feel increasingly divided, BEYONDER is about bringing people together. Singing is one of the simplest and most powerful ways to do that: to find a shared voice, celebrate community and remind us of what connects us all.

They took a moment to talk to us about how the album came together.

Hey there, how are you? So your album is out now – how does it feel to have it out there?
Giddy. The songs date back to Brian's weeks inhabiting St Kilda, and go on to explore many continents across both hemispheres. That scale is gigantic BUT my favourite part has been the local impact: hearing it land with people in person, at instores, festivals, in videos we've received from fanclub members... and from the hundreds of singers who learnt our songs for the official launch concert at the Sheldonian Theatre in the band’s hometown, back where it all started. Experiencing both these scales at once… a unique kind of vertigo.

It is called 'Beyonder' – what is the meaning behind that?
Still exploring that one myself. Maybe a Beyonder is someone who's drawn to what lies past the horizon: an explorer, a wanderer, going beyond their comfort zone, undertaking journeys & choices, somehow staying hopeful when the world feels unsettled. Or perhaps humanity needs to "Be Yonder" in these chaotic modern times, where it's too easy to retreat into the solitude of a smart phone. Yonderness: a kind of mindfulness & empathy that builds bridges between polarised communities. I like word’s unsettledness: it lets the listener Choose Your Own Adventure.

Where was it recorded? Any behind the scenes stories you are willing to share with us?
Produced it ourselves and engineered most of it in our own home studios, with selected outside input. Here in South East London my bass sounds were honed by the expert advice of J Wilgoose Esq and luthier Laurence Dixon but, again, we contrasted the local with the international: Oli Jacobs mixed every track at his world-class setup in California. The most exciting adventure was to Durban where we recorded 'The Honeyeater's Song' with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Having myself grown up in South Africa learning to speak Zulu and sing their isicathamiya and mbube singing styles, being in that room felt like a full-circle moment.

What are the key influences behind the album?
The natural world: seabird cliffs, oceans, rivers... and the geese, gannets, shearwaters and honeyeaters that flit through the lyrics. Brian grew up devouring books about explorers like Jacques Cousteau and Thor Heyerdahl, and that spirit runs through 'Marco Polo'. Part of my personal aim musically was for us to step beyond "folk" and embrace "post-folk" (this doesn't mean "post-human" even though the planet might feel like it's headed that way). The guest vocals from Ladysmith Black Mambazo, community choirs Syrinx & Sound, and Daisy Chute, each pushed us towards bigger harmonies and a broader sound in which communities collaborate who might not otherwise have found each other, in this increasingly polarised world.

If the album could be a soundtrack to any film – which one and why?
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty... It's about a daydreamer who finally leaves his desk and throws himself at the wild edges of the world, all to track down a single photograph. Beyonder’s cover art is a photo Brian personally took on St Kilda, and the whole record is about stepping off the edge of the everyday into something bigger (this is what Stornoway’s been singing about since our debut album’s “We Are The Battery Human”). We as a band are not always sensible about it (like Walter): in Durban this summer, Brian & I hopped a cordon onto a condemned bridge, just to get round a lagoon and see some exotic birdlife. Mr Mitty is often in the back of my mind during such escapades… W stands for Walter!

Do you have a favourite lyric on the album? If so, which one and why?
"Hawu, cisha umlilo, uyavutha!" is Zulu for "Fire! The house is aflame!"... that's our alarm call about collapsing biodiversity. It opens “The Honeyeater’s Song” which tells of an Australian perching bird so rare that the juveniles barely ever hear the adults sing; the species is forgetting its own song. This is a perfect echo of what's happening to Ladysmith Black Mambazo (our collaborators on the track): their tradition survives because elders teach newcomers to sing. It’s an honour to have played our small part in preserving their tradition, connecting them to a younger audience.

Now the album is out there – what next for you?
Lots of singing! We launched the album at Oxford's Sheldonian Theatre with a scratch choir of almost 400 volunteer voices, on World Rivers Day; we want to do a lot more of this in 2027. The Beyonder tour runs Oct-Feb finishing at Shepherd's Bush Empire. Away from the stage, I've also started our "Beyonder running club" called Free Range Humans, where fans join us on the morning before/after a gig to run, walk, or swim with us. Loads have signed up already... come along, join in, and Free The Battery Human!

Loud, infectious, poignant, confident,  reflective, Basht. knock down all expectations and then some with debut album, Poor Advice. 

Dublin four-piece Basht. hold nothing back on their debut album, Poor Advice, which is set to be released on the 9th of October. If you’ve not heard of Basht. yet, now's the time to get to know them. Made up of Jack Leavey on vocals and guitar, Ryan McClelland on drums, Louis Christle on bass, and Lughaidh Armstrong Mayock on lead guitar, Basht. have mastered a sound that is very much their own. For a relatively new band on the scene, they already ooze a quiet confidence that took many well-established bands years to find. The confidence and chemistry between the band members can be heard throughout Poor Advice, a debut album that will capture your attention from the get-go and take you on one hell of a journey. 

The album opens with the haunting Dive, which is all slow, methodical drums, pulsating guitars and Leavey’s deep, biting vocals; it carries the weighty, familiar and now well-loved sound of Basht. It’s immediately gripping, the darkness of the track carrying you throughout. The album is nothing if not smooth, the opener flowing effortlessly into Perfume, which was the band’s first single from Poor Advice. Honing in on the grip the Catholic Church has had on Ireland, Perfume is a slow burner of a track. A track that continues to progressively build, the precise pluck of guitars becoming more vicious, bleeding, the drums picking up speed. It’s reminiscent of The Smiths How Soon Is Now? 

Love Actually-inspired, Kiera Knightley is a fiery, bone-rattling track, one that ebbs and flows between a slow, precise sound and a loud, chaotic one. Those who have seen Basht. live will be familiar with the song, familiar with the chaos that comes with it when bodies fling themselves around a mosh pit. If you have not seen them live, that scene is still easy to picture just from listening to the song. Each track on Poor Advice feels relatable as a listener, an album that could help them “understand themselves a little better, maybe,” according to Leavey, particular those from Ireland. However one track in particular can be relatable to all, regardless of location, Terror TV.

Terror TV is one of the standout tracks from Basht.’s debut for many reasons. It is, in theory, a lighter post-punk track compared to the beginning of the album. It’s urgent, punchy, infectious, immediately getting under your skin. While it feels like new territory for the band, underneath the track’s upbeat sound is Basht.’s familiar grittiness; their heaviness is laced throughout the lyrics. Terror TV represents the exhaustion, the feeling of helplessness, the overwhelm that comes with watching global conflicts, such as genocide, playing out on our screens, as well as how desensitised society is becoming to it all now too. 

Superchurch carries an extremely personal feel to it, one that those who have grown up in an Ireland ruled by the Catholic Church can very much relate to. The lingering guilt that many of us will have felt when trying to escape it. Opening with the slow, steady pluck of guitars, followed by Leavey’s haunting vocals, Superchurch is hypnotic. “I know you won’t understand / just why I’m leaving this church / I’ve drawn a line in the sand.” Basht. aren’t afraid to tackle heavy subjects head-on, which has been obvious from the beginning of the album, yet Superchurch, despite its gentler tone, hits you like a bolt of lightning. “I’ll meet you in the setting sun / beyond the walls of Eden / and greet you as a free man.” A subtle nod to those who have escaped the grasp of the church, and to those who are perhaps still trying.

Basht. continue to kick doors down throughout the second half of their album, with tracks like Vermillion Reptilian and Circadia. Basht. have a very distinctive, unique sound, but the occasional influence sometimes bleeds through. Vermillion Reptilian feels like another subtle nod to The Smiths, while the riotous opening of Circadia carries undertones of Idles. Both, however, are inherently Basht. dark, gritty, packing a punch. And for all their rage and noise, the band are not afraid to slow things down. With Moth, they lay themselves completely bare, vulnerable, almost delicate “well you came in through the window / attracted to the light / landed on my shoulder / asked to stay the night.” Moth allows the band to test their boundaries, how far they can go between light and dark, while also allowing vocalist Leavey to showcase his vocal abilities. 

Penultimate track, Kids Vs. Guns, is another punch to the gut, perhaps the heaviest one yet. Basht. Have always been incredibly vocal in their support of Palestine, completely unafraid to stand on the right side of history, unlike many other artists. Kids Vs. Guns is them continuing to address the genocide of Palestine head-on. The kick of the drum, the slow spiral of the guitars, the devastating lyrics - all of it will sit with you long after the song has ended, long after the album too. It’s a track that is incredibly hard to escape from. “Bottle rockets met with missiles… / it’s children starving on the TV / how many minds are left to change.” The album closes with the title track Poor Advice, addressing the current alcohol and drug problems that are sweeping through Ireland. Basht. create a space for self-reflection with this track, “Look at you now / the party is over / all our friends wrapped up and left.” It’s subtle, but the weight of this final song is heavy “look at you now / birds tell you to go to bed / but you’re flying high instead.” The guitars ebb and flow, building up before slowing down. The band’s aim is that listeners can find hope throughout the album,  “the songs might not change the world, but rather allow people to figure out things about themselves.” Poor Advice closes out the album with that flicker of hope “in the darkest hour there’s a flicker of a light /…it’ll get us through the night.” 

For a band who are only just getting started, Basht. have come out with a debut that feels bigger than them, in the best way possible. Poor Advice is just the beginning for Basht., and already it carries so much weight and power, which means there will only be bigger and greater things to come from this Dublin band. A potential album of the year? Most definitely.  

Words by Angela English

Goodbyes are never easy, let alone when you’re a band who have been the soundtrack for an entire generation of indie pop. For Kodaline, getting the final chapter and last farewell right was important not just for closing the door as a band but as a way to give back to the fans who have given them so much. With ‘We Were Only Young’, they bow out in the same way they started: four lads from Swords Dublin making music that makes you feel something.

Reflective, nostalgic and carrying a wistfulness apt for any band’s victory lap, it is an album that knows what its artist does best. Kodaline’s song writing and artistry has always been rooted in emotional transparency and the choice of stillness over spectacle. ‘We Were Only Young’ is able to feel cinematic and sweeping but in a way that never loses sight of its vulnerability; the very thing that made us all fall in love with them in the first place.

The album opens with ‘Back To Me’ which with its isolated vocals and unresolving melodies feels like what many goodbyes start out as. Fuelled by a quiet desperation and the need to say everything you can before it’s too late, it firmly establishes what everyone already knew would be an emotional tone. The way the lyrics fall into one another and the instrumentals fade out towards the end are an intriguing choice because of the implications they have for the rest of the album. They suggest unfinished business, someone’s recognition that they have to close the door but not quite knowing how to turn the key behind them. There is no ‘right’ way to say goodbye and Kodaline realise that the best they can do is say their piece from the get go and hope it finds somewhere soft to land.

Contrary to what you might have expected from an album seeking to find the right way to say farewell, Kodaline inject ‘We Were Only Young’ with a lot of joy and hope. ‘Get Me High’, much like the title would suggest, is a real feel-good track that is about finding the people who make everything in life better. Towing the line between feeling like a chilled out love song and something you could dance along to in the kitchen at the end of a long night, there’s something about its pacing and instrumentation that oozes warmth and assurance. ‘Vultures’ similarly is a welcome burst of energy, a reminder that this is the sound of a band who are still enjoying themselves. Compared to the darker, more emotionally weighty moments on the album, it is decidedly uncomplicated and a good reminder that amidst the entanglement of feelings and conflict and uncertainty there is space to let the light in.

Kodaline have long been a band who have been able to capture something in the deeply personal, often intimate moments that makes them feel universally resonant. ‘Without You’, likely will go down in their discography as one of the most personal and heartfelt tracks, especially with the knowledge that Steve Garrigan wrote it to perform to his wife at their wedding. The beauty of the song lies in its simplicity and rawness, pondering how different things would be if you didn’t have that one person in your life who makes it all worth it. Soft vocals sung straight from the heart complemented by simple guitar - Kodaline’s bread and butter.

To bookend their swansong, ‘The One For Me’ closes things out with a sense of calm. By the time it comes around, the overall tone of the album feels less like a goodbye forever and more a recognition and appreciation of time’s inevitable movement forwards. Neither sad nor dramatic, the feeling it conveys is one of acceptance. Nostalgia, but not necessarily the overly rose tinted kind. It states firmly that ‘We Were Only Young’ is not simply an album about endings, but instead about having been on a journey worthy of looking back on.

There will always be something inherently bittersweet about listening to a band’s final album. Each lyric, chord and reflective glance backwards carries more weight. For Kodaline, the feeling is impossible to escape so instead is embraced. Returning to the melodic, emotionally direct song writing that has defined them for all these years, ‘We Were Only Young’ is a celebration of everything they have been and all they have achieved together. And there is still much to be achieved, particularly with the farewell tour set to kick off in November. Of the 5 UK dates in December, the most special will no doubt be the final show which is at home at the 3Arena in Dublin. Tickets are limited but still available and given that it could well be the last chance any of us get, they will no doubt sell out soon.

Words by Kirsty Thomson

Guitars, guilt and a Paul Weller inspired cover: Jamie T faces his ghosts.

Jamie T has always been a songwriter haunted by his own past, so it makes sense that his sixth album, Ghosts (100 Days of Morning), finds him finally sitting down with it. After 2022's The Theory of Whatever, Jamie Treays was left with hundreds of voice notes and no way of stitching them together, and ghosts, as he puts it, are very hard to capture. The way out came from a hero. Struggling in the run up to his biggest ever headline show at Finsbury Park, he learned Paul Weller's live album from the Royal Albert Hall front to back, and discovered a Jam song he'd never heard, 'Ghosts'. It became the jumping off point for a record about owning the parts of yourself you keep at arm's length, and the puzzle of his last few years finally clicks into place.

Opener '3310', named after the old Nokia phone, sets the (ring) tone. That familiar indie vocal sat over a soft acoustic guitar before the track bursts into something more Jamie T. It turns British nostalgia and cheap snakebite into bold poetry, a strong start that tells you exactly what the album is about. 'Cocktail' is far more abrasive, a plucky guitar strum under verses that almost sound rapped, the instrumental swirling like something ripped from a PlayStation 2 game. It's a great song, enigmatic and full of personality, and a line about losing the friends he once had cuts especially deep. Additionally, Damon Albarn’s work on this track sits among the album's most striking moments. 'Waist 36 Leg 32' keeps the guitars front and centre, distorted before exploding into a cathartic release, a rousing rumination on guilt, masculinity and consumerism with a chorus built for dancing freely.

Then the pace drops. 'All I Wanna See is Now' is more confessional, the vocal layering on the chorus both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring, its looping outro the chef's kiss on what is essentially a declaration of love. 'The Won' leans on his unmistakable south London delivery against an atmospheric backdrop, the drums picking up the pace without shaking the sobering emotion. Its message that life doesn't always work out is the sort of thing you'd hear over the credits of a classic coming of age film. 'Chelsea Girls' follows, a half sung, stream of consciousness look at British culture through the lens of tabloid sensationalism, warm synths recalling the electronica of the late 90s.

The title track is the emotional pivot. Jamie's take on The Jam's 'Ghosts' is pacier than Weller's original, swirling synths adding a spectral edge before a groovy bassline drags it into the modern day, all while keeping the tenderness that hit him so hard in the first place. 'Crimson and Clover' takes one of the most covered songs in pop history and slows it right down, wistful and beautifully layered, ending on the sort of moment where a crowd waves its arms in unison. It's one of the most wholesome points on the record.

'Crucible' drifts into a dream pop feel, like a less nostalgic continuation of the last track. There's a peculiar breakdown in the middle, a deep vocal take before it bursts back to life, and the second half rescues the first, the outro sounding like it's being sung from an echo chamber of painful memories. 'Caught Cheating' is the most delicate track of the album, opening on a lone piano key and building as he deals with the aftermath of a mistake, before the delicacy tips into something more distraught; elongated notes and impassioned wailing.

The record closes on 'Tallahasee', an incredibly atmospheric intro, built around a sample of Leif Vollebekk's song of the same name. Jamie's conversational style returns, like a pop Mike Skinnerwithout the same charisma, and this is where the songwriting slips. Sonically it’s solid, but the more attention you pay to the lyrics the less appealing it gets. There's context, at least. After namechecking the likes of Lily Allen and Tracey Emin, he brands himself a plagiarist, playing with imposter syndrome, and a line casting himself as the soundtrack to your university years will resonate with plenty of his fans.

Ghosts (100 Days of Morning), out 9th October via Polydor, has all the hallmarks of that trademark Jamie T sound. Indie guitars, personable lyrics and the ache of wishing for the past, something the title alludes to before you press play. The songwriting may be lacklustre at moments, but with the 20th anniversary of Panic Prevention on the horizon, the undeniable talent of Jamie Treays remains firmly intact nearly two decades on from his debut.

Words by Alex Peters

It would be an understatement to say Simple Plan was one of the biggest bands to come along in the 21st century. Coming up during the peak of pop-punk and never going back down, the Canadian group were the soundtrack to many lives; whether they were the school outcasts, the lone wolf runaways, or the standouts of the normie crowd, everyone found a piece of themselves in Simple Plan’s discography. However, as they return to the United Kingdom, they have solidified their permanent placement in popular culture for the rest of music history.

Cementing their still major alternative reputation in the mainstream, a sold-out night in Manchester kicks off the Bigger Than You Think tour in style.

Warming up the crowd is the scene’s newest and bluest offering in Charlotte Sands. A powerhouse voice, Sands commanded the stage accompanied only by her touring drummer and her ambition. Promoting her new record Satellite, released earlier in the year, she brought her art to life with energetic kicks, electrified guitar licks, and wind-fuelled hair flicks.

For someone who is still considered a newcomer in the alternative sphere, Sands came prepared to rock the Apollo from the get-to. Not missing a single note, she was able to win the room over with her powerhouse vocals and her star quality stage presence. It would be easy to mistake her for the headliner, if the audience turnout is anything to judge by; and this is why supporting the opening act is one of the simplest yet most important things music fans and frequent gig-goers can do. No one knows when the next rising star could become the brightest in the galaxy, but if this first night of the tour is anything to go by, keep an eye out in the sky for the continuous ascension of Charlotte Sands.

Following on to keep the mood up and keep the feet moving is Australian punk outfit Stand Atlantic. Gearing up for the upcoming release of their fifth full-length Godbreath, they gave the northwestern crowd a full rundown of their musical history as of recent and if that didn’t advertise their new release in the right way, then there is no right way about it.

Stand Atlantic have cemented themselves as a band of fun-loving music-playing pals, and that was what was broadcast on the Manchester stage: dancing, chanting, giggling, and just being all-around loveable characters putting on a show for the fans and non-fans alike. Playing classics such as Skinny Dipping’s smash hit ‘Lavender Bones’, Was Here hits ‘GIRL$’ and ‘ROCKSTAR’, and f.e.a.r. tracks ‘dumb’ and ‘deathwish’, this was the perfect opportunity for the Sydney four-piece to tell everyone who didn’t know them who they were, and everyone who did know them who they are right now. If this career showcase of their old and new material piques interest, then there’s no doubt Stand Atlantic will be seeing more and more faces on their own tour cycles in the future.

As it comes to the main event, everyone is ready and warmed up to the maximum for this career-defining concert. As the lights come up, the music begins, the photos flash on the screens behind the stage, and the Canadian quartet take their respective places, the night can truly begin. And there’s no better way to begin than to burst right into the bouncy bliss that is ‘I’d Do Anything’.

With a burst of confetti and a roar of cheers echoing from the back to the front, Simple Plan was in for a memorable night. As the first few songs play on, the variety of older and newer releases was an unexpected but welcome surprise. Playing their latest single ‘Nothing Changes’ between classic hits such as ‘I’d Do Anything’ and ‘Addicted’ was a fitting assortment, and the crowd were along for the right through time and back. With a band so synonymous with their heyday such as Simple Plan, this can be considered a risky role to play out. Many old-school fans - identified by the band themselves as being in attendance on the night - were probably unaware of the new stuff at best and a hater of it at worst, but if this was the case then these fans are fantastic actors. It was cheer after cheer, applause after applause, and it will be very rare to find such a happy and accepting crowd of a long-term music act again.

There is also a fascinating visual aspect of this show, as every performance had its own dedicated aesthetic shown on the screen and stage setup surrounding the band. This includes a beautifully illustrated comic strip accompaniment for the ever-so-relatable ‘Welcome To My Life’; the appropriately space-themed dreamscape for ‘Astronaut’; and the most hilariously memorable, the animated feature airing alongside the band’s rendition of their theme tune for ‘What’s New Scooby-Doo?’. However, it was not the on-stage animation that made this Scooby-tastic track go down a treat. It was the band’s insistence of having the stage stormed by an abundance of Scooby-Doo cosplayers. To a point that the musicians themselves were swarmed by row after row of tall brown dogs and they were difficult to spot even for the barrier-stood fans.

It’s what one must expect with pop-punk gigs: there are no adults, only overgrown kids.

Closing out the night are two of the most famous singles ever released from Simple Plan: the intergenerational hit ‘I’m Just a Kid’ and the heartbreaking ballad ‘Perfect’. Choosing these tracks to close the night out was a well thought-out and executed decision, as if any themes resonate the hardest with a pop-punk following, it really is feeling lost and alone and scared in the big wide world, and feeling like the black sheep of the family and growing up coming to terms that there sometimes is no happy ending. Yes, these are sad songs and it is a sad fact that they will speak to many people in that room and around the world on a greater scale; however, to be in a room with thousands of people singing alongside one another with the heart, soul, and emotion that those songs were born out of and performed with is one of the most heartwarming sights to ever witness.

In the end, Simple Plan may come across as just another band of brothers who will make silly jokes, pull stupid faces in photos, and act closer to their shoe sizes than their ages to those outside of that corner of the industry. But there is always something deeper, more meaningful, in how they act and the music they play night after night. They know that music means something to someone, no matter how many or how few people in that venue it may have needed to hear it at that moment. This is why no matter if someone is 10, 16, 25, or 55 years old, they are still just a kid.

As long as life is still a nightmare, Simple Plan will always be there to use their musical offerings to make it a little more dreamlike.

Words by Jo Cosgrove
Photography by Lily Evans 

With so much on the horizon, Amble prove the world is theirs for the taking as they blow the roof off on night 2 of their UK tour. 

The nights are getting longer and it’s certainly getting colder but thanks to Amble, Glasgow was aglow on Wednesday night. With their month off complete and the O2 Academy sold out and fit to burst, their fifth ever show in Scotland was one that will no doubt be remembered for a long time. 

Setting the stage was Kean Kavanagh. Joined by Finn Mac Anna on drums and Peter Brien on synth and bass, Kean proves himself as one of the best storytellers out there at the moment. His artistry is one which blends his Portlaoise roots with indie rock and Americana, creating a sound that transcends time and geography. Aptly calling themselves the ‘preamble’ to the night’s main event, the trio created an atmosphere that felt like something out of an old film; nostalgic, warm and reverent. Their chemistry is incredible - for the majority of their set they played facing inward towards one another, creating a sense that we as the audience were flies on the wall in the rehearsal studio. Illuminated in shades of blue, green and gold, you couldn’t help but be drawn in by their charm. Of the many high points in the set, a favourite had to be ‘A Cowboy Song’, their final number to warm up the crowd. Taken from his debut album ‘The County Star’ that came out last year, it is one of the best sonic representations of his identity as a Houston-born Irishman, marrying together the sounds of both sides of the Atlantic. Knocking over his guitar and leaving the stage buzzing, you can’t help but want more. Luckily, Kean is on a tour of his own, playing new music in pubs through the ‘ber months. If the Glasgow McChuills’ show was anything to go by, these are not to be missed.

As Amble came on to deafening cheers, you couldn’t help but feel a bit emotional. Folk music at it’s core is about bringing people together, and that was palpable from the moment the first chord was played. Whilst there’s no doubt the entire tour would be brilliant, there’s something particularly special about this kind of music performed to a crowd that feels like home. Celtic music, whether its sean-nos or rap as Gaeilge, is bigger and more important than ever so to be in the room and singing songs about the roots that tie us all together was a feeling I wish could be bottled. 

The tour is in preparation for the January release of ‘Love And All Its Wares’ so it isn’t long before the crowd is treated to exclusive first listens to some of the songs coming in the new year. The very first of these sneak peeks comes in ‘Only to Run’, a gorgeous track only written by Robbie a couple months ago and barely just recorded in April. Not wanting to give anything away, the only way you could possibly sum up this song is to say that it is spell binding. Lots of people talk about moments where you could hear a pin drop but for this track in that room, time stood still. Pure magic. 

From opener ‘Schoolyard Days’ which was the first song from their first album ‘Reverie’ to ‘Church Bells’ which is set to be their next single, the set was hit after hit after hit. Dipping between songs new and old, any space in the room was taken up by the crowd clapping, stamping their feet and dancing. From the swirling harmonies on ‘Marlay Park’, the anthemic lyrics of ‘Moral Victory’ and the searing instrumentation on ‘One Man’s Love’, Amble’s discography truly has no weak links. A personal favourite was ‘Of Land and Sea’, which was my introduction to the band. Mashed up seamlessly with the closing lines ‘Hey, I’m Living’ from ‘Treehouse Wings’, it was a real treat to finally hear live. It was clear by the end of the night that the ordering of the setlist was meticulously thought out. The evening closed out with ‘Poets Run the Land’, another of the never-before-heard brand new songs from the upcoming album. There’s something incredibly bold about finishing an encore with something unfamiliar but its a swing that does not miss because the crowd are enthralled. There’s something very ‘Irish Goodbye’ about it - whilst the song itself is sweet, gentle and a clear goodnight to the crowd, the teasing and mystery of leaving us with something unknown is wonderfully clever. 

Between tracks as bits of kit are swapped in and out, the lads draw the curtain back and give context behind the songs. When the tunes are as emotive and lyrical as these are, the insight into what inspired them is often as enchanting as the songs themselves. Despite their sonic cohesiveness, Amble as a band have no single songwriter so each of these introductory chats gives whoever penned the track a moment to share the story that went into creating it. ‘Hand Me Downs’, written by Robbie is about the importance of telling people how much they mean while we still have them around. ‘Lonely Island’, written by Ross is about the people who make a place a home. ‘Mariner Boy’, written by Oisin was the very first song they ever released and is about (and always dedicated to) his grandad Tom. In an interview a couple of years ago, they summed it up better than I ever could: ‘There’s no wall of sound behind us to protect us and the vulnerability is real. That's what connects with people; they feel it. They can tell that we are just being who we are and telling our stories’. That sentiment : the idea of coming together, sharing stories and fostering connection with one another. That is exactly what Amble are all about. 

The sound was immense, in no small part down to the number of instruments being played by the 8 men on stage. Amble officially is made up of Robbie Cunningham, Oisín McCaffrey, and Ross McNerney, but for this tour they are joined by 5 further band members; all of whom Robbie says are new to the family. Towards the end of the set, each are introduced one by one and cheers are divvied out for both their talents and the different Irish counties they hail from. Seán McKeon from Dublin, Peter Kelly from County Offaly, Liam Watts from Connemara County Galway, Andrew Smyth from Kilsheelan County Tipperary and Seánie Bermingham from Mullinahone County Tipperary. Whether it be the uilleann pipes and the double bass or the harmonium and mandolin, these lads threw everything (and the belfast sink) in. 

Whilst Ross’ banjo is the obvious choice, the MVP of the night has to be the performance of ‘Mary’s Pub’. One of the many things that first brought the trio together was their love of Luke Kelly and the old Irish ballads. ‘Mary’s Pub’ came out of their determination to write a song that could stand up alongside the greats and since it’s release in 2023, it has become one of their most successful and unmistakably ‘Amble’ tracks. The lighting team who were sensational all night went above and beyond with warm twinkly lights that blurred as the tears began to well up. By the time Robbie, Oisin and Ross stood back during the final chorus to listen to the crowd sing out every word a capella, there was not a dry eye to be seen. 

With the rest of the tour to go and lots to be excited about, its a great time to be an Amble fan. Aside from the January release of ‘Love And All Its Wares’ (available now for preorder) and ‘Churchbells’ which drops on Friday October 9th, the most anticipation is for their 5 nights at the Royal Castlebar in December. Set to be an incredible show, it will be raising funds and awareness for LauraLynn and Sunflower children’s hospices in Ireland. In what will be a surprise to no one, it has sold out in its entirety. 

Words by Kirsty Ann Thomsom

Bright, synth-driven, and anthemic, Spanish Love Songs' brand-new single blends an ambiguous sound with scarring and irate lyrics to form ‘Doom Tripping’.

Spanish Love Songs are a true favourite bands favourite band, often flying slightly under the radar of the general scope of the genre they preside within; they have managed to assemble an uncompromising and dedicated fan base throughout their years of touring with anyone and everyone, and releasing heartbreaker after heartbreaker. Their often modern emo sound has melded into a kaleidoscopic blend of ambiguity with their all-new track ‘Doom Tripping’. This track’s blend of killer synth and bass syncopation creates a fabulous launchpad for the bright and rhythmic guitar and vocal portions. This light and indie-heavy sound contrasts greatly with the nihilistic sensibilities of the lyrics that are laid all over this track, becoming the musical equivalent of grinning through the end of the world. This grey and bleak messaging is the best-curated sucker punch in their catalogue, lulling you into a sense of security and familiarity before making you question a spiral of life events.

The single comes from their upcoming November release ‘Future Nausea’, an album that persistently interweaves this blend of happy/sad into both its messaging and its notation, allowing for a blissfully confusing and utterly compelling collection of songs to take shape. This sound deviates slightly from their traditional, more cut-and-dry acoustic and kick-ass emo sound, but does so with progress in mind, brandishing a new set of skills for the future generation of Spanish Love Songs fans. If the recent singles are any indication, this album will cement itself as a cornerstone of the band’s creative ingenuity and continue developing their already brilliant sound.

Alongside the announcement of the album comes a tour, teeming with an action-packed cast of lesser-known heavy hitters like Michael Cera Palina, Carly Cosgrove and Bike Routes; this collective of melancholy masterminds are bound to captivate audiences with their emotional reckoning night after night on this tour, and to see the headliners play their back catalogue of rippers alongside this all-new sound will be a true spectacle of flannel-clad sadness.

Words by Josh Pook

Death Cab For Cutie enrapture Troxy.

Exploding intro an edgy East London crowd, Death Cab For Cutie’s  first song sings :”Too tied to talk, too tired to ever walk’ which sharply combines with their upbeat drum driven intro. Their lyrics alluding  to toxic tension are spot on: ‘Im too tired to talk, I’m too tired to end the war’. Somehow these seemingly aggressive yet sentimental lyrics disarm you, with  second  song lyrics: ‘They disappear like sugar in my coffee’ encapsulating the shallow sugar rush of young romance -both  fast and fleeting yet heavy. 

Lively support Sun Kids provide a moody ride with their Nirvana soaked set that clearly strikes a chord with moody East London hipsters. Like their grungier Seattle counterparts, they take a dirtier, grungier turn - and  Brian Malko esque vocals with looping guitar and dense bass and an irresistible drum loop is superb.

In a lovely and rare exchange, the lead singer quips that a fan yesterday said his twelve year  old son is forming a band: “This song is about exactly that - a flood of memories of f being in the band  playing every night!”.A wave of warmth surges through the the room, the hand shroud a refreshing humility. In the edgy Eadt London grime, the and show they’re prime, and we’re all massively here for it. 

As their ores lonely state: ‘ In recent years, celebrating the 20th anniversary of their albums: ‘Trancsentalism’ and ‘Plans’ ,the band have rocketed into the live scene once again.Their past  at Ally Pally prove their lasting powerI Built You A Tower’ is an album of reconciling with past selves in order to locate a new future. This was true for Death Cab for Cutie as much as it was for Gibbard himself. After 20-odd years in the major label system, the band returned to their indie roots and signed with ANTI- Records. 

The move coincided with Death Cab embarking on a writing and recording process more akin to their initial run of albums in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s, filtered through lessons learned through the textural experimentation of their ‘10s records and a decade-plus with their current quintet lineup: Gibbard, bassist Nick Harmer, drummer Jason McGerr and multi-instrumentalists Dave Depper and Zac Rae. and prove their curious inability to appear when they were seemingly lost.

In an age of uncertainty, the need for meaning is burning. According to the band’s astute view,

‘’Built You A Tower’ is an album of reconciling with past selves in order to locate a new future. This was true for Death Cab for Cutie as much as it was for Gibbard himself. After 20-odd years in the major label system, the band returned to their indie roots and signed with ANTI- Records. 

This move was seismic, and ultimately proved their nous: ‘The move coincided with Death Cab embarking on a writing and recording process more akin to their initial run of albums in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s, filtered through lessons learned through the textural experimentation of their ‘10s records and a decade-plus with their current quintet lineup: Gibbard, bassist Nick Harmer, drummer Jason McGerr and multi-instrumentalists Dave Depper and Zac Rae.

Their enthralling anthem: ‘I Will Follow You Into The Dark’ is shattering, the Troxy  audience bellowing every word with l their sheer passion, a touching exchange with the crowd the lead singer opens up “Nothing lives long onto the earth’ - and we are aptly reminded of our place here with the music. 

Words by Brendan Sharp 
Photography by Sam Strutt

Despite only releasing their first single last year, the wait for debut album ‘Put A Smile On For Me’ has felt torturous — but don’t worry, it was worth it. 

Although ‘Siren’ might have had Keo knocking on the door of the music industry, debut album ‘Put A Smile On For Me’ feels the equivalent of following it up the six-song EP with a bulldozer. It’s everything that the length and breadth of the UK has come to love from the London lads ratcheted way up until the handle’s broken. Finn and Conor Keogh, Jimmy Lanwern, Oli Spackman. Remember the names, because 'Put A Smile On For Me' feels like a launchpad to the echelons of beloved modern guitar bands. But don’t take this review’s word for it — instead, take a look at the stats. They’ve sold out their tour in a crazily short period, including O2 Kentish. They went from the BBC Introducing Stage (RIP) at Reading and Leeds last year to the main stage this year. They’ve even already announced a show at the iconic O2 Brixton next year — and all of this before even releasing their debut album.

Sure, most of the album won't be a surprise for any long-time fans. Bar two songs — and even one of them has tentatively started creeping onto recent setlists — all of them have been setlist mainstays in one form or another. Some, like ‘Fly’, have had their original demos floating around for years. But getting to listen to them mastered, self-produced by Finn — “I almost wanted to compromise the music just to get rid of the pressure. But I didn’t think

anyone else would get it right”, he explains — and unapologetically raw, even after the studio-driven polishing, is something else.

‘Be Happy’ sets the scene right off the bat. Propelled by bright, demanding guitars and a thudding rhythm, the instrumental carries a deceptive bounce that clashes against Finn’s broken vocal delivery. The repeated refrain of “never mind” sounds like a man at the end of his tether, the vocals flitting between hopeful and broken; when the track spirals into a wall of crashing riffs, then, it feels less like a catchy hook and more like a driver abandoning the wheel, refusing to just accept the road laid before him, the instrumentals’ climax crashing together like a pile-up. That tension carries straight into lead single ‘That’s Me’, an explosive, seething track where gravelly, self-recriminatory vocals and heavy dynamics confront toxic behavior head-on. Any attempt at foregoing blame is shoved to the side, alongside any idea of languishing in self-pity; you can feel a little bit of impotent rage, the idea of confronting failings that you feel unable to change, but on the whole the spitting vitriol is perfect.

Then, if I can go on a quick personal tangent, the track I was most excited for. The track that got me into them a few years ago, finally given the polished, official release treatment: ‘Fly’. Re-recorded with crisper instrumentation and somehow even more despondent vocals, the brooding, anguished track is sublime. Finn’s voice sounds exposed and desperate — a wounded animal lashing out over a hypnotic, swelling backdrop, building and building as the emotion, the anger and the grief pours out as one… before the final roar suddenly cuts out, leaving behind an empty silence. The threatened, tempestuous climax never truly arrives, the track feeling like it could have just gone on and on, but that’s probably personal bias! Either way, it sure does the live favourite justice. 

'Best I Can Do’ slows the pace into sludgy, melodic territory, Finn almost drone-like as he wrestles with indecision during the gradual erosion of a relationship, while the aforementioned setlist-newcomer ‘Bird On The Wire’, building off of a soft, aching guitar melody, trades its predecessors’ earlier rage for quiet acceptance. Finn’s crooning vocals carry a bewildered listlessness, cast adrift at the realisation that a relationship is doomed from the start. 

'Pistol’, acting like its namesake, uses a sudden, jolting drum fill from Spackman to kick off what feels like the album’s second half. Built around soaring guitars, it reflects the idea of still being able to see light from long dead stars; its gradual fade, the track easing away into a silence, feels like holding onto something that still inexorably slips from your grasp. Then, ‘Loser’. The only song truly unfamiliar to Keo’s wider audiences, a feigned gentleness quickly gives way to a simmering sense of insanity, a mental state a moment away from a breakdown; a listing of faults, real or imagined, feels like a man on the brink. There’s a sort of dark despair to the track, a nihilistic pallor that leaves the track devoid of hope, of colour beyond a swirling, all-consuming blackness — but it’s somehow weirdly beautiful at the same time.

Speaking of dark despair, ‘Black Dress’ takes it the other way. Rather than introspection, the track gives the sense of slithering malice as discordant melodies, anxiety-inducing blares, and sinister whispers cut in and out, echoing through an empty room. There’s something incredibly Deftones-y about it, despite not being all that reminiscent of their particularly distinctive brand of shoegaze; still, though, Finn seems to channel his inner Chino throughout the track, whispers and moans evoking a sinister sense of tension, while anxiety-racing instrumentals flaunt and haunt it both. A sudden end, the song like a malevolent spectre suddenly and abruptly cutting off, merely adds to the discord. The lyrics thankfully make a tad more sense than Deftones’ usual stream of consciousness, but it’s pretty damn close considering the otherwise stark differences between the bands’ usual fares; add some more breakdowns, perhaps a scream or two, and they’d feel nigh indistinguishable to casual listeners. Even in such a strong album, a clear hidden gem of a track. 

From black to blue, then, as ‘Blue Song’ offers what feels like a maudlin eulogy, an epitaph of the relationship. The gentle guitar under Finn’s raw and surging leaves the track feeling bereft and particularly alone; raw pleading and longing laid bare. When the band fully kicks in halfway through, the soaring vocals feel closer to futilely raging against the dying of the light rather than any sort of new life. Which is distinctly ironic, given it is proceeded immediately by a new version of ‘Thorn’, the ‘Siren’ standout given new life by way of a more brutal album iteration. With splintered vocals and more demanding instrumentation, it strips away any sort of polish to show the cracks in the veneer. It feels weird that a ‘proper’ version of a song somehow feels rougher, but the ‘Thorn’ from ‘Siren’ ain’t got nothing on this, the more austere update showing a rougher, far more mesmerisingly emotional core.

By the time you get to closer ‘Spent On You’, then, it feels more like mental aftercare. The jazzy track offers up a mellow, relaxed instrumental backing under Finn’s wistful crooning, a lovesick wanderer staring into the distance and reminiscing. In a vacuum it’s almost romantic, but in the wake of the toxicity of the album extended before it, it reads more like callouses and scarring building on unresolved trauma. Which feels like not only the perfect way to end Keo’s debut album, but almost the only way they could have ended it.

‘Put A Smile On For Me’ won’t be for everyone; it feels unremittingly honest, refusing to adhere to more modern conventions or to soften its edges and reach some sort of status quo. It somehow feels both massive in scale and unrepentantly, uncomfortably intimate; even for long-time fans, it’ll likely need a certain mindset or mood to go into it for a full run through. Despite that, though, and with the acknowledgement that it’s said as an existing fan, it’s fantastic. It’s everything you could want from the boys, other than perhaps calling for twice the length. 

The perfect call-to-arms for anyone who thinks guitar-led music is dead. 

Words by James O’Sullivan