After years of playing shows, reminiscing over their old bangers and becoming more musically complete than ever, Basement are back after 8 years with their new album ‘WIRED’, showing them off at their most profound and well-versed to date while still maintaining that brutal tenacity they have become renowned for.

Basement has been around a long time, especially when you consider the life span of their genre, and to see them grow and flourish alongside it at every step of the way is one of the best parts about following bands in this scene. While their sound has remained relatively similar throughout their lifespan, ‘WIRED’ is an all-new take on that sound with lulls and booms that see the band cross ground that has not been explored in quite some time, keeping that same interconnected and vibrant feel to all of their deeply perceptual tracks.

Throughout the course of this album, we bear witness to some of the best writing and composition that this band have put out to date, a lot of which contains a softer approach than previous, which speaks to both the quality of their song writing outside of their angsty and brutal tonality and the emotional wisdom that comes with more years under your belt. ‘WIRED’ truly is Basement at its best, and to see them continue to grow keeps me excited for the future of this scene. 

The album opens with the track ’Time Waster’, and to the average basement fan, this will likely be most familiar; it’s raw and punchy and embroiled with their signature blend of emotive aggression. It was a brilliant idea to start the album with this track, as its sense of familiarity and its blistering pace get the cogs turning, especially towards the end of the song as the final chorus kicks it into 6th gear and smashes its way into the next song through vicious chords and coarse vocals. This serves to open up the audience for the fresher sound and the rest of the album.

‘WIRED’ is layered perfectly; every track flows so well and continues a long lineage of perfectly assembled albums. If you have been following the release schedule of the album, its new sounds won’t be entirely new, but this works excellently as the singles are intercut with the heavier and grittier deep cuts, allowing the pace to change while still keeping the energy consistently high throughout. This pace is carried into the title track and debut single, ‘WIRED’. This track hits hard and with a sense of immediacy; its more astute and clearer vocals coexist perfectly with the whirlwind of chords and an all-time drum performance for James Fisher, who is also the drummer for lesser-known London hardcore menaces Dynamite. The rest of side A smashes through my favourite track on the album, the spine-crunching and brutalist ‘Deadweight’. This track takes the older, heavier sound of ‘Wish You Were Here’ and ’Colourmeinkindness’ and amplifies it; the guitar playing is more vast and technically advanced, the overall composition and finishing touch is so well thought through and intentional and really sees the band come into their own.

As side A continues, tracks like the other debut single, ‘Broken by Design’ and ‘Pick Up the Pieces’ shine for different reasons. ‘Broken By Design’ is a completely different vibe to the rest of the album; it has a more indie-focused sound and shows their best lyricism and flows out of any project so far. as the side A draws to a close ‘Embrace’ encompasses the best elements of all albums past and presents draw to a close with an atmospheric and elegant drum line mixed in with a plethora of man-made effects generated from the bass and the guitars. This pace escalates into a halftime riff that falls into place like a cartoon anvil. The pacing on this song is absolutely fantastic and reiterates yet again just how much this band have learned and developed since their last album. 

Side B kicks off with ’Sever’ and its so captivating to see just how on form basement are on this album, the sound is curated for every listener and will undoubtedly have at least a handful of tracks that fans new, old and super old can build brand new memories to, sever is the perfect start to the B-side as it feels raw and overflowing with energy, the craftsmanship behind the desk feels slightly more laissez-faire, allowing the instruments to do the talking and conveying the teeming creative energy that has been poured into this project. This really helps the synergy of this album continue flowing without interruption. The two most recent singles also reside within the second half of this album. ‘The Way I Feel’, a gorgeously penned love letter to the genre,  is the most sincere and intentional track on the album; it balances the scales right in the middle of the chaotic heavy sound and the mellow vibe-laden lead lines of ‘Broken By Design’, the song feels built around both the cultures and the people within those cultures that the band love so dearly and this love is conveyed perfectly through this songs run time.

The most recent single, ‘Head alight’ is the beginning of the end of this album, and it begins its sendoff in such a perfect way, it’s slow yet still grungy and muddied, creating a perfect friction between the slow and grating tone of the chords with what is likely Andrew Fisher’s best vocal performance on this whole project. to be both atmospheric yet deeply rooted in the sound found on previous records is not easy to do, but it is pulled off beautifully. as the album continues Basement continues to give their lighter and soulful songs to breathe, these track on previous albums have always been fantastic but it truly feels like they have come into their own with them now, with ‘Longshot’ being the slowest of the bunch, its nice to see that they have become a multifaceted powerhouse of musicianship.

As the closer started, I already found myself ambling back to the play button to get a second loop in before another thought could enter my brain. ’Summer’s End’ is a triumphant and all-encompassing track that truly covers all the ground that the band could want to touch on. It’s gritty and technical as the drums hit snare rolls that accost the succinct major chord and note progressions, it creates this perfect balance that Basement have become all too good at operating within, and they couldn’t have chosen a better album to ring out this valiant return to. 

This is set to be an absolutely astronomical year for Basement, launching a slew of listening parties and in-store shows to accompany the release of the album, as well as some awesome festival appearances, including a coveted Outbreak headline slot. With the fuel from ‘Covet’ being launched into the stratosphere in the past few years (even being featured in the horror movie, ’Presence’)  this album will likely garner widespread attention and finally break through into the mainstream, giving their unyielding talent and creativity its time in the sun, all we can hope for now is to hitch a ride on the back of their inevitably chart topping rocket ship of an album. 

Words by Josh Pook

Hailing from the infamous city in the north-east of England, the trio have brought their “unequivocally Geordie” anthems straight to the forefront of a London dominated scene.

Starting off as a producer duo between drummer King David-Ike Elechi and bassist Stan Woodward in 2020, their work evolved massively once the two decided to rent a studio where they would write together.

Two years later, in rather unorthodox fashion, trumpeter Ferg Kilsby joined.

“We were watching a video of this youth jazz orchestra and then we saw this trumpet player, really young with this russian hat on, and it just sounded amazing”, King recalls, “Stan and I just spent hours scouting the internet, asking everyone that we knew, and after months of searching we finally found Ferg”.

15 years old at the time, Ferg recalls trying to make up excuses to not take up their offer, before his parents encouraged him to accept, leading to an inaugural jam. Things progressed quickly from there, with the group playing weekly gigs at local pubs and venues, before they collectively decided to move to London for their music studies.

This decision could potentially be attributed to the rising lack of opportunity for young musicians in the north-east of England, especially in jazz, where the epicentre of the movement is still situated in London.

“I was lucky”, explains Ferg, “when I was starting I had music lessons at school and there were school bands. In the last few years the state of music education and the arts in general, like youth clubs and stuff like that, has slowly been eroding away”.

Even major national music events such as the Mercury Prize being hosted in the area doesn’t seem to fill the group with hope: “It does provide more business but doesn’t actually help the grassroots music scene. On the surface it may seem like its providing more money and funding, but it’s actually not really doing anything”.

Alas the three remain determined to lead the way for aspiring musicians outside of London, with their newest album still very much containing the Geordie spirit intact, if not stronger than it was in their first record.

In fact, the recording process also saw an influence from a different type of “Geordie”, that being the infamous and fast-rising star Geordie Greep producing the album with the trio.

“I am just pinching myself” tells Ferg, “I listened to Geordie’s album religiously, and now he is just this guy we know. And I just forget it’s the same guy who made that album”.

“The knowledge is crazy! I remember when we were mixing the album I was just kind of sitting there watching as Geordie was just suggesting things that wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years”.

King was also not shy in his praise of Greep as a major creative influence on the sound of the album: “He knows so much about the actual record making process of not just pressing record. Just watching him take the lead and suggest things has made us figure out how to conduct ourselves in the studio in a way we didn’t really know how to beforehand”.

The group had a meticulous schedule ahead of their studio sessions, getting together prior to their recording sessions to decide on final arrangements before they went any further: “we went to Geordie’s studio and recorded all the demos, with massive changes for most of the tunes”.

“It got to the point where we had these things completely solidified, we knew what was going to happen and all the sections were completely set in stone. So it was really smooth this time, we felt a lot more comfortable”.

Being a former black midi fan, King was also excited about the rock influences which came to fruition in this record, which he believes have added a different edge to the group’s sound: “It was sounding cool but having all this extra stuff, making it sound large on a recording is a whole other experience”.

“It adds so much more. And it kind of sets us up for the third one. Now we have a completely different uncharted territory to go in and see how far we can go with making a record that cannot be replicated”.

Reflecting on their last year, the group struggle to believe how far they’ve come in their musical paths, having completed their first headline tour, first gigs outside of the U.K, and become friends with some of the brightest musicians in the country: “It’s been like an introduction to the actual scene, and becoming less of a small town band and creeping into that national region, or at least trying to”.

Knats certainly push the boundaries of modern Jazz and Rock music in their newest record, an exhilarating exploration of the sound they have built together over the years, advanced even further by the creative freedom manifested in the instrumentation and the ode to their hometown which is felt strongly throughout.

Words by Jay Cohen

It’s hard to believe that she’s already been making music for over ten years now, but this is not girli’s first rodeo. Since the release of her debut album Odd One Out, and further pushed with her follow-up Matriarchy, the London artist has been reaching new heights with every year that passes. Now with her latest full-length, she’s on top of the world; where she belongs. But that’s just her opinion.

Being a standout storyteller, girli made a name for herself for bringing social issues to the forefront with her alternative-pop sound being the messenger. From human rights to politics, from the importance of her identity to the erasure of identities in others, she has never played a safe game and everyone is watched, judged, and if necessary, called out in song. it’s just my opinion follows the same formula but switches the mood; either as a reaction to living in a world constantly turning backwards or just a style change to match her current energy.

The record starts with ‘Blue Sky’, an alternative-bedroom-pop track about wanting to gain control in an uncontrollable world. Touching on everyday social anxiety and turning away from old-fashioned expectations, girli just wants to lie under a “blue blue sky, in the place of the ceiling” so she can finally be at peace.

It kicks the album off with what can be inferred as a succinct summary of what living in this modern-day environment: everything is unpredictable, and unpredictability brings on stress, pain, and tiredness. All to a point that all one dreams of is nothing: no noise, no responsibilities, just clarity and emptiness. It’s a relatable point that everyone gets to at one time or another, and to express this moment with a catchy pop-filled rhythm hammers home the inevitability that all calm and quiet is only temporary. But even a temporary break can be good for the soul.

Following this up is ‘Slap On The Wrist’, an anthem about the realities of living as a woman in today’s society. Detailing common precautions women will take to stay safe outside the home, such as covering their drinks on a date or holding keys between their fingers, it’s a story that resonates with thousands - if not millions - of people around the world of all cultures, genders, sexual orientations.

Jumping up the pace, girli wishes for a moment where the roles are reversed. Dreaming about, “If I could be king for a day” she would be able to move through the day confidently; and if assaulters and apologists “could be the queen for a change” so they get to experience the same actions and feel the aftermath that stays with it. It’s less a wish for revenge and more a wish for compassion and empathy, but coming to the fact that many people will only believe it if they could see, hear and feel it all for themselves. She says that anyone in her place would “feel the rage”, and someday when that rage is felt will be when everything improves and people like girli can do anything and everything they want to.

The playthrough of it’s just my opinion reads as chapters of the lifelong story of the average girl-next-door: the sensual dance-pop ode of ‘Light In The Dark’; the powerhouse queer heartbreak anthem of ‘Lifestyle’; and the chant-worthy story about friends turned lovers of ‘Better Undressed’. With ups and downs, good mornings and bad nights, the story comes to a close with the satisfying seal that is ‘The Answer’. With a range of topics of ambiguity, disappointment, uncontrollability and heartache, this is the most fulfilling way to close this record.

‘The Answer’ is a romantic fantasy that is as high in the sky as it is planted in the ground. It’s a reminder that love and passion is still real and still out there, and that it can happen in everyone’s lifetime in one way or another. This is a track that will be a favourite of the fans, as well as a favourite for live performances. That layered callout of, “You’re the answer” will be a popular one in many gigs to come, and will mean even more for the strong-held community that’s been built between girli and her fanbase.

Since she debuted in the scene in 2015, girli has only been rising higher and higher while growing stronger and braver, and with a decade under her belt with it’s just my opinion, it looks like she’s found her footing in music. She is the voice of a new alt-pop blend of pro-feminist ideals and counter-culture authenticity. But really, it’s just my opinion…

Words by Jo Cosgrove

Three years on from their last project, Ohio’s own alternative underdogs take another medley of influences and weld it into a transient and catchy electro-punk masterpiece to usher in their all-new album ‘Halcyon Blues’.

Citizen are a truly brilliant project that has often gone just under the radar when talking about bands in their genre and beyond, and they’ve come back to show yet again why this is a mistake. ‘Highs and Lows’ is the debut single of their new album, a project that sees them venture further and further from the norm while still keeping it tight and punchy. With the angsty feel of the last album, ‘Calling the Dogs’ settled and became a consistent part of the live set now, it’s awesome to see such a long-established band with a distinguished sound keep taking risks the way they have with this new album. Every project seems to be what they’re into, and the music flows so well because of it. While it’s distant from the original tracks of ’Youth’, the album that garnered their popularity, each new sound is individual, pulling from all different areas of music, making it both impossible to pin down the genre and impossible not to admire the tenacity of their songwriting decisions. 

‘Highs and Lows’ is a bright and vibrant rock track with pragmatic and concise chord patterns that contrast with the wholly unpredictable drum patterns that accompany the song’s constantly changing paces. The addition of the electronic elements is stronger than ever on this album, and it works perfectly to build a deep, expansive atmosphere while still allowing the song to feel pop-esque and wildly catchy. This blend of unpredictability and thorough songwriting, with a Twenty One Pilots-style atmospheric alt-pop buildup, is genius and keeps the track both an easy listen and in-depth. It’s great to see Citizen keep taking these gambles with their songs and for them to continue to pay off so well, especially considering the scene they preside within is not usually one that reacts well to drastic change. That being said, the change in sound and the stylistic difference within ‘Highs and Lows’ still contain the soul and emphasis that make their projects so individual and identifiable. 

Clocking in at nearly seventeen years as a band its great to see them keep smashing it with every new record and seeing how the songwriting and the people that write those songs develop as time marches on. Citizens' all-new album, ‘Halcyon Blues’, is set to be released on August 7th of this year via Run For Cover, a label the band have been long-time members of. As we wait patiently for more tracks to sink our teeth into, we can only hope that they stay as consistent as they are and that we get to see this LCD Soundsystem fan side of Citizen a little more often. 

Words by Josh Pook

Dundalk shoegazers Just Mustard are as mesmerising as ever, playing a sold-out show at London’s Electric Brixton on Wednesday night. 

Showcasing their unique sound - a fusion of ethereal, haunting vocals, dark, warped guitars, distorted synths and unfaltering drums - Just Mustard put on a truly captivating performance at a sold-out Electric Brixton on Wednesday night. The Irish five-piece have been on tour following the release of their third album, WE WERE JUST HERE, at the end of last year, and they have been on a consistent ride to the top. Having built up a cult following after the release of their debut album, Wednesday, in 2018, and furthering their success with second album Heart Under in 2022, their live show only cemented their unwavering talent. 

Support included Dublin-based artist Cruel Sister and Limerick’s finest THEATRE. Cruel Sister, aka Faith Nico, falls into a similar genre as Just Mustard. Her sound combines shoegaze and grunge together, with the occasional venture into the dreamy pop sphere. With echoing vocals and distorted guitars, Cruel Sister gives the crowd a glimpse of what’s to come throughout the rest of the evening.  

Limerick-based band THEATRE are next in line to warm the crowd up, and by that point, Electric Brixton has properly filled up. THEATRE have been slowly building a name for themselves through their live performances, having supported the likes of Gurriers on tour last year. And, with multiple slots over the 2025 Festival period, the band already had a mass of people onside well before releasing their first single, which only came out in April. The crowd seems entirely mesmerised by the five-piece, whose set is equal parts haunting and intoxicating. Their sound is precise - a consistent percussion, heavy, intricate guitars and distinct, ethereal vocals. It’s hard to put THEATRE into one genre, a fusion of alt-rock, indie, post-punk. Witnessing THEATRE live makes it easy to understand how they gained their following before ever releasing any music. When a crowd are singing your praises long after you’ve left the stage, you know you’re doing something right.

There was a buzz throughout the venue as the crowd waited for Dundalk shoegazers, Just Mustard, to take to the stage. The band came out in a haze of purple light, kicking off their set with track ENDLESS DEATHLESS, a clash of drums, siren-like guitars, and vocalist Katie Ball’s haunting, childlike vocals, the crowd already swaying on their feet, in a trance. They flow effortlessly between tracks, heading straight into SILVER, which has a bit more of a flurry to it, while OUT OF HEAVEN is more distorted still. Wailing guitars, heavy distortion and an extra level of depth created by the addition of David Noonan’s vocals. 

There’s a heavy, ominous energy during I Am You, it’s eerie, impregnable, all thunderous noise and droning hums, Ball’s vocals ghost-like, maddening. Elevated further by the well-thought-out lighting that accompanies each of their tracks. The band are lit up in a haze of red and pink during crowd favourite Deaf, from their debut album Wednesday. The easily recognisable opening pluck of Rob Clarke’s bass earning a cheer from their captivated audience. The pulsating bass, grunge-like guitars, and Ball’s ethereal vocals have the crowd in a trance, with the song reaching its climax through Noonan’s powerful wails. Frank is another powerful display of talent from the band, the tension-building thrum of the bass, pulsating drums, maddening guitars and piercing, hypnotising vocals “I watch TV to fall asleep / and I can fly in my dreams.”       

Just Mustard continue to flow seamlessly through their setlist, the wailing guitars, palpitating crash of drums and whisper-like vocals of Pigs leads directly into POLLYANNA, the first single from their latest album WE WERE JUST HERE. The opening alarm-like distortion immediately has the crowd swaying, picking up speed with the hammering of the drums. POLLYANNA live feels otherworldly, a track offering a form of escapism for Just Mustard’s audience. 

The band close out their set with title track WE WERE JUST HERE, which, while still containing the familiar industrial sound of Just Mustard, the jagged guitars and electronic-like beat give it a lighter, dreamier air. The stage is a mix of green and purple swirling lights, and Ball’s voice creates a sense of euphoria within the venue. It’s followed by the heavy, bone-rattling Seed from Heart Under, which is darker, more menacing, Just Mustard at their finest.

It is no wonder that their gig was sold out, with Just Mustard being as mesmerising and captivating as ever live. With a US tour and a number of festival gigs ahead of them this summer, including Latitude and End Of The Road, they are definitely a band worth making an effort to go and see. Their distinct sound will be ringing in your ears for days after, in the best way possible.

Words by Angela English
Photography by Harry Wassell

On ‘Concrete Line’, Cutscene come with the kind of moody, poetic rock that has flourished in the UK and Ireland in recent years.

It’s a punchy, economic performance, one which doesn’t dwell too long in one place, or milks a good riff cynically. It’s an evolving piece that goes a long way to expressing the many and often conflicting feelings of daily life in a small town. The opening is shimmering and euphoric, an immediate and enjoyable mess of reverberation. The cymbals splash and the guitars are comfortingly discordant. As Seb Mason’s voice comes into view, Cutscene evoke the ambivalence that defines the sound of this era’s finest guitar bands.

The anxiety-laden vocals mixed with the heady swirl of the guitars chart an uneasy path, as Mason guides us through his thoughts on being caught in the languorous, static environs of small-town existence - ““This track presents a character who is on a single track, someone living in a small town. The idea was conceptualised after equating the feeling of being ‘stoned’ to the paralysis people feel in modern urban centres where nothing new or exciting really happens.” Cutscene were raised in the north east of england, a part of the country where big cosmopolitan cities give way to sleepier locales. He is speaking from experience.

Another energy that is more delicately expressed in ‘Concrete Line’ is that of being out place, maybe not lost, but transposed from a familiar habitat. Cutscene are now based in Manchester, one of the busiest metropolises in the UK - Perhaps then, there’s even a sense of longing to go back to the simpler ways they grew up with. Whatever feelings this first noisy minute gives you, there’s not much time to think before the mid-section drops - A moment of melodic clarity in between two blocks of loud guitar. Here the band strip right back, with Mason’s lyrics taking full prominence - “It’s something he tries to say, but there’s no day he can separate. And trusting that time will turn, but words he prays offer no escape.” The monotony, the days blurring into one. It’s difficult to think of life as anything but what’s immediately in front of you, especially with so few options for change.

The key to understanding ‘Concrete Line’ is treating it as three vignettes brought together as one, a song which ties its phases together with sometimes-tenuous but always-logical connections. The titular ‘Concrete Line’ is about being stuck in the same way of thinking, as your surroundings don’t offer any change or recompense from the day-to-day banality. It’s about being lucid, but not quite all there in the present. This theme is an disquieted one, it’s not necessarily unhappy, it just kind of exists, which is exactly the feel you get being raised in a small town. You can dream about the wider world and try to grasp it, but unless you haul yourself up with purpose, you’ll never get out there and see it for yourself. It takes hard work, self-belief and a little bit of good fortune to break the cycle. Some people never do.

Words by Adam Davidson

On the streets of Brighton, a voice once stopped people in their tracks. This September, it’s set to stop a city. Passenger is returning to Brighton for a major open-air performance at Hove Park, marking a rare homecoming for an artist whose story is inseparable from the place it began.

Long before the charts and global streams, Mike Rosenberg was busking here, building an audience one passers-by at a time. There was no industry push, no overnight breakthrough, just songs, and the kind of connection you can’t manufacture. That sense of closeness has remained at the core of his music, even as the scale around it has grown far beyond those early street performances. Now, with 16 studio albums and a global following behind him that stretches well beyond the South Coast, Passenger returns to the city that first gave him a stage. Set for Sunday 6th September 2026 and presented by JOY. Concerts alongside BBC Radio Sussex, it stands apart from the usual tour cycle. It feels intentional. Not just another date, but a moment placed with purpose.

Passenger has always existed slightly outside the noise of the mainstream. His songs don’t demand attention; they hold it. Built on acoustic simplicity and lyrical honesty, they create space rather than fill it. That’s what carried Let Her Go from a stripped-back ballad into a global anthem, connecting across borders without losing its intimacy.

Hove Park offers a different kind of stage from the arenas and festival slots Passenger has come to command. Open air, late summer light, and a crowd that knows every word. The kind of setting where the smallest moments travel the furthest, where a quiet chorus can ripple through thousands and still feel personal. That tension between scale and stillness is where Passenger is at his strongest. Few artists can grow this big without losing what made them matter. Fewer still can return to where it started and make it feel like more than nostalgia.

With JOY. Concerts behind it, a promoter deeply embedded in Brighton’s live music culture, the night already feels bigger than a standard tour stop. Special guests are yet to be announced, but they feel beside the point. Because this isn’t about who joins him on stage. It’s about what it means to come back changed, and play those same streets like they’re hearing you for the first time.

Tickets go on sale this week, and demand is expected to be high. For many, this will be more than a concert. Because this isn’t just a return. It’s the same streets, the same songs–just louder now.

Words by Dhriti Duggal

Wandering between the dimly lit cavern of Village Underground, the vinyl-clad walls of Rough Trade East and the cosy Ninety One Living Room, Brick Lane was alive with immense musical talents, an infectious quality of joy pervading across each stage and spilling out onto crisscrossing streets flooded by festivalgoers. As the fifth iteration of London’s premier jazz festival descended in and around The Truman Brewery, it was the East London multi-venue festival’s largest year to date. As well as a stellar genre-bending line-up of underground stars and the biggest talents from across the UK and international jazz scenes, this year’s programme was also expanded with the addition of a conference series of talks, workshops and mentorship sessions, tying together the festival’s status as a forward-thinking hub of rising talent and melting-pot vibrance. 

With Irish, Jewish and South Asian (particularly Bengali) communities flourishing in the area following waves of immigration that date back to the 17th century, Brick Lane’s history of multiculturalism manifested itself in an incredibly diverse lineup with many ties across cultures and diasporas. Nowhere was this more prominent than on Friday night, when Rohan Rakhit took over 93 Street East with an impeccably curated lineup paying tribute to the South Asian underground. Having approached the festival in 2024 over its lack of Bengali and South Asian representation, Rakhit’s second year curating a stage dedicated to South Asian diasporic rhythms was (with the exception of some bizarre technical issues on the venue’s behalf) an absolute triumph. His own set crowded the room with joyous, animated figures that danced to melodies bouncing from East London to Dhaka and Kolkata. With a set also blending in jazz and house, Rakhit’s crowdpleasing hour-and-a-bit behind the decks led into the gut-vibrating sounds of Midlands-born, Bristol-based dubstep producer Bengal Sound. Across the rest of the weekend artists explored similar webs of layered cultural identity and diaspora, from DJ and global storyteller Haseeb Iqbal’s Friday Village Underground set to the West Asian-infused jazz grooves of Yoni Mayraz at Juju’s on Sunday, and the eclectic cocktail of global underground sounds performed by Turkish artist Peki Momés at 93 Feet East on Saturday. 

Friday Headliner anaiis & Grupo Cosmo carried their own unique journey within their Village Underground set, with the French-Senegalese singer discussing how she travelled to Brazil to create their self-titled mini-album with the Brazilian three-piece following sending them an unfinished version of ‘Toda Cor’. Their third show ever, and their first in Europe, anaiis’ airy melismas created a dreamlike atmosphere over the pulse of drummer and percussionist maestro Biel Basile. After the “meditative, transcendent section of the set”, the dramatic intensity of work-in-progress track “Change is Needed” was received with thunderous applause at its menacing finale. 

Across the weekend the presence of London’s grassroots and underground jazz scenes were strong, with stalwarts of the underground jam scene making up cornerstones of the festival. Afro-punk collective Steam Down played at Village Underground on Saturday halfway between their weekly jam sessions, whilst youth jazz charity Tomorrow’s Warrior’s – who’ve had a hand in developing exceptional talents such as Ezra Collective, Nubya Garcia and Moses Boyd, amongst others – hosted their own stage at Brick Lane Tap Room across the weekend. With the charity celebrating their 35th anniversary, the Tap Room hosted a range of impressive young acts across the weekend as part of their mission to open doors for global majority, female and non-binary jazz musicians otherwise locked out of opportunities to pursue music careers. On Sunday, the Tomorrow’s Warriors Youth Ensemble showed a promising vision of the scene’s future with a strong setlist of predominantly original material by musicians aged 16-19, whilst across the rest of the weekend Tomorrow’s Warriors alumni were some of the most hotly anticipated acts, from Christ Stephane Boizi’s soul and gospel-infused jazz sextet to Joe Armon-Jones’ Sunday closing slot. 

As well as providing a stellar view into some of London’s most promising rising and underground stars, the festival’s most renowned headliner Brian Jackson (of Brian Jackson & Gil-Scott Heron fame) delivered wholeheartedly also. Electric on stage, the legendary jazzman’s posse of musicians came together for perhaps the sharpest set of the weekend. They played a range of tracks from Jackson’s upcoming album Now More Than Ever, releasing at the end of May with collaborations from Moodymann, Black Thought and Lisa Fischer, to name a few of the masterminds at work on the the project. The album’s title track drew intrigue, an anthem of peace, unity and action, but classic tracks such as the bustling ‘Lady Day and John Coltrane’ (coincidentally played by Rohan Rakhit towards the end of his set the day before) remained welcome fixtures of Jackson’s set. In between frenetic flute solos, a moment of calm beckoned with the more reserved ‘Winter In America’. Jackson took a moment to discuss how the classic grapples with the dire politics of modern America, proclaiming “all empires must fall… what comes after winter?” 

Spring, of course, is the answer. 

Jackson’s musings continued, advocating for action as the entire audience chanted along “you gotta take what you want, like a gorilla”. The band rounded off their unforgettable set with an emphatic uptempo rendition of Jackson and Gil-Scott Heron’s 1974 hit ‘The Bottle’, and the bounding crowd at Village Underground loved every moment of it. 

As the evening turned into the night, there was no shortage of highly danceable music, with Saturday night’s highlight being Alexander Flood’s full band set at 93 Feet East’s Live Room. From behind his kit, the Australian beatmaster led his bandmates on bass, keys and flute through a set that combined nu-jazz, funk and broken beat influences with a strong house music streak. As concertgoers bounced in the crowd, Flood’s killer drum fills combined with searing synth lines by keyboardist Akey, whilst flautist Erica Tucceri pierced through it all with cascading lines leaving crowd-rousing furore in their wake. 

The day after, it was the joyful energy of French band Stella & The Longos that left a lasting impact amongst Sunday’s stacked selection of artists to throw shapes to. Their distinctly 80s sound channelled disco, zouk and boogie into a lively set that was constantly in dynamic motion, from the group’s infectious synchronised dancing to their energetic synth and guitar solos. On ‘Au Retard’ (translated: being late), the electric guitar and synth lead went bar-for-bar trading solo lines, bringing the audience into a state of rapture.

A downside of the festival’s venue-hopping setup was that more popular acts playing smaller stages attracted long queues that far exceeded the venue’s capacity, an alien concept for more traditional festivals. When deciding whether to make the ten-minute walk to Village Underground, or the trek past Shoreditch High Street station towards Rich Mix, trying to estimate whether you’d even get in undoubtedly detracted from the festival’s otherwise relaxed atmosphere. Yet (as the festival did advise), there was always other excellent music happening nearby, and in the wake of disappointments I did stumble across other incredible talents. Arriving back at The Truman Brewery on Saturday to catch Ghanaian multi-instrumentalist Kwame Yeboah at Juju’s only to find a queue snaking as far as the eye could see, my subsequent decision to head to Ninety One to see Marlon the Pannist was a happy accident in every respect, as they turned out to be exceptional. The 6-part band featured steelpan master Marlon Hibbert in his element amongst keys, bass and percussion, playing a fusion of contemporary jazz and calypso that saw his playing intertwine with fellow steelpan drummer Marcus Cumberbatch-King. Marlon’s emphatic, intricately constructed compositions were lapped up by the eager crowd, including ‘The Gift (The Curse)’, a song about friendship and musical miscommunication relating to the practice of learning the steelpan by ear, and ‘Find A Way’, the title track of his upcoming album. Also a renowned educator and advocate for the steelpan in music education and contemporary music, Marlon’s is a name to remember. 

The festival came to a close with a slew of memorable acts on Sunday evening. The final artist performing at Ninety One Living Room, a stage curated across the weekend by non-profit organisation jazz re:freshed whose important work uplifts and provides opportunities to underrepresented jazz musicians in the UK, was the immensely talented Eliane Correa’s En El Aire Project. A prolific collaborator (including with Hans Zimmer), Eliane has been a major champion of Latin music in the UK, and the band’s Cuban-influenced jazz set was a triumph, with the inimitable Alley Lloyd delivering undoubtedly the best bass solo of the weekend on the vibrant ‘Escapade’. 

After Brazilian-Norwegian jazz singer Charlotte Dos Santos graced Village Underground at 7pm, the final act of the whole weekend was Joe Armon-Jones at 8:30, who opened his set by applauding Dos Santos’ ethereal preceding performance. 

Breaking out as a founding member of Ezra collective, Armon-Jones’ solo work as a composer and keyboardist similarly pushes the boundaries of modern jazz. His band included fellow Ezra Collective member and alto saxophonist James Mollison, as well as the incendiary percussionist/vocalist Asheber, whose presence was immense when he took to the front of the stage for tracks like the call-and-response ‘Kingfisher’, or the unreleased dub track “Wicked Men”. Frequently adopting a vocoder to synthesize his voice into a modulator signal for his keyboard, Armon-Jones’ band showed their vast range across their hour-long set, hopping from the bassy rumbling of dub influences to blistering afrobeat and sprawling virtuosic jazz solos through Armon-Jones’ experimental, free-flowing soul and funk-tinged compositions. 

Between songs, Armon-Jones gestures to the audience, stating “there’s a lot of improvisation happening; it’s like a conversation between us”. Decades of gentrification have fundamentally altered many streets and facades around Brick Lane and Shoreditch beyond any recognition of their former cultural significance, yet simultaneously we’re often reminded of the area’s strong heritage, sometimes from those sapping the vitality of these communities themselves. Yet here in the dimly lit closing of 2026’s Brick Lane Jazz Festival, we found joyously rich cultural expression living and breathing in a defiant act of community, a conversation that’s still being written.  

Words by Taran Will
Photography by Harry Wassell

Ahead of her new album, Loveland, Suki Waterhouse returns with her latest single ‘Tiny Raisin’.

Suki Waterhouse has always carried a certain ineffable cool, but on “Tiny Raisin” she leans fully into something messier, warmer, and far more human. It’s a track that resists the polished mythology of perfect romance in favour of something far more recognisable: love as contradiction, as impulse, as a cycle of rupture and repair that somehow never quite breaks for good. Built on a rock-tinged backbone that feels both retro and slightly unhinged in its energy, the single finds Waterhouse embracing emotional volatility not as a flaw, but as the very engine of connection itself.

From the outset, “Tiny Raisin” makes its thesis clear: this is not love as serenity, but love as chaos with chemistry. “That’s my man, hot damn / We gonna break up, make up / Do it all over again, fuck yeah / We gonna talk shit, crash out, laugh it off,” she declares in a chorus that feels less like confession and more like a lived-in mantra. There’s a looseness to it, a kind of grinning exhaustion that turns dysfunction into ritual. And yet, just as quickly, Waterhouse undercuts any sense of cynicism with a sharp pivot into devotion: “’Cause he’s so fine (So fine) / And he’s all mine (All mine).” It’s this push-and-pull that gives the song its addictive tension, the sense that logic has already lost the argument, and desire is now in charge.

What makes “Tiny Raisin” particularly compelling is the way it frames contradiction not as instability, but as intimacy. Waterhouse isn’t trying to resolve the paradox of loving someone she “seriously hates” in moments of frustration; instead, she sits inside it, almost luxuriates in it. There’s a kind of self-awareness here that prevents the track from tipping into parody. It understands that modern love, especially under the scrutiny of social expectation and self-performed emotional intelligence, rarely behaves in clean, linear ways. Instead, it loops, repeats, fractures, and reassembles, often with the same person at the centre of it all.

Speaking on the track, Waterhouse describes it as “a love song at its core,” one that embraces the idea that real love is “chaotic, ridiculous, and imperfect, while still being something that is absolutely worth choosing over and over again.” That sentiment is embedded deeply in the song’s construction. Rather than presenting chaos as something to escape, “Tiny Raisin” treats it as something almost sacred in its familiarity, the emotional friction that keeps connection alive, even when it doesn’t always make sense from the outside.

The track reinforces this thematic duality with it’s intriguing soundscapes. Produced by Gabe Simon and written alongside Steph Jones and Carrie K, the record sits in that sweet spot between indie-rock grit and pop immediacy. It feels slightly unkempt in the best possible way, like a song that could just as easily spill off the rails as it could lock into a hook and refuse to let go. That tension mirrors the narrative at its heart: the instability of feeling, held together by sheer magnetism.

There’s also something quietly subversive in the way Waterhouse refuses to moralise her subject matter. “Tiny Raisin” doesn’t ask whether this relationship is healthy in any conventional sense; it’s far more interested in the fact that it exists, and that it persists despite everything. In doing so, it sidesteps the polished emotional narratives that often dominate contemporary pop songwriting, opting instead for something scrappier and more honest in its contradictions.

“Tiny Raisin” works because it feels lived-in rather than constructed. It captures the way real relationships often defy tidy categorisation, existing in the space between affection and irritation, devotion and disarray. Suki Waterhouse doesn’t try to smooth those edges out, she sharpens them, sings through them, and turns them into something unexpectedly joyful. It’s messy, it’s self-aware, and it’s exactly what makes it feel alive.

Words by Danielle Holian

It’s Prostitute at Moth Club. We came to dance. let’s dance. 

Dearborn noise band Prostitute are having a moment in the sun; more refined and more explosive than their two nights at the Windmill which was legendary, with Lttl Mort in tow, the act are explosive in terms of raw noise and sound and getting the crowd engaged, capable of holding nothing back. It’s the latest name to come out of post-punk that you can tell are capable of reaching IDLES and Amyl and the Sniffers level greatness from their swagger and real grit – the intensity of Attempted Martyr is laid bear on stage for all to see and from the moment they come on the pit descends into complete and utter chaos. Crowd surfers; stage divers, you name it – the revelry is a melting pot and the fury of the band is unrivalled.

There are echoes of Swans and Chat Pile in their stage presence and Moe is an incredibly gifted frontman able to tackle the grit of Arab Identity in America and what it means to be Muslim in the states growing up. The Middle Eastern influences are passionate and they harken back to their roots with a sprawling, thematic sound that carries through much of their set: imagine Protomatyr with the brute force of IDLES and you get something like what Prostitute set out to do; kind of similar to Bristol outfit Knives in execution. ‘Judge’ a roof-raiser; “I don’t sleep / I don’t eat” swelters through the room cutting the crowd like a razor-sharp knife. “I cut holes in the plaster / set fire to the streets” – it’s a rallying cry and we ‘re off. Moe has one sentence for the crowd; daring them to dance, and they obey – launching themselves into oblivion from the word go. It might be, for all its chaos that it can unleash – Moth Club’s angriest, rawest show that I’ve seen in a while.

Running through the new album with the explosive, revolutionary inciting rage that punk outfits like Lambrini Girls are also capable of bringing to the table; ‘M. Dada’ is a detonation – an explosive that basically amounts to the lighting of the fuse. The shrieks and drums pound with raw cathartic rage, furious and utterly incredible. This is a band that’s here to tell the world what it was like growing up in the city of the largest Arab-American population in the United States – and the anger at how they’ve been treated in their youth is all laid bare; all concentrated, all distilled into the pure fury of this one song. It’s what best sums up ‘Attempted Martyr’s’ mission statement and distils its themes into one record – that when performed live; ramps up a notch: more refined, but still plenty chaotic. This is controlled chaos: you know what to do, you’re told what to do – yet you can’t help but embrace it. The mosh lasts from the first song to the end; and would you be anywhere else? Could you be anywhere else but right in the thick of it.

‘Body Meat’ and ‘All Hail’ are also set masterpieces deployed from the album throughout and ‘All Hail’ really raises the roof in terms of its anger: “I’m the motherfucker who took down the towers”; Moe screams – crushing the industrial punk with Middle Eastern, African and East Asian music – it’s really hard to compare it to any kind of band out there right now given just how utterly unique they are. There are literary references too – thematic influences from Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian is evident; and the whole set ebbs and flows like it’s a real response to the bigoted views that claim Dearborn has Sharia law – a real place for a community where everyone who turns up to a Prostitute show is welcome. In drummer Andrew Kaster’s own words, pulled from a recent Guardian interview, “what the fuck are you talking about?” This is captured live – the love of Dearborn is felt in the essence in their set – it’s a rallying cry of pure rage that asks for reparations from how they’ve been treated by America and been put through things that no kid should have to go through in a modern; first-world country.

The more controlled Prostitute get as a band the more you see of flashes of Maruja in their set; their ability to ramp up the crowd and dictate where they move next. The band dictate the flow and the crowd follows; effortlessly moving in their grove building a tempo to explosive fire. Moe is a frontman with a stage presence that few can rival and this feels like the resistance in full motion; people allowed to let their rage and fury out at the world in the mosh at anyone who will listen. In terms of sheer intensity the songs kick in and it just never comes up for air; not even once: a short but explosive set puts them in the frame of hardcore band territory should they so wish. Watching Prostitute add more songs to their live set and recorded collection will no doubt be a real joy; there are so many different directions that they could go next that tap into the rawer energy of Chat Pile or just continue carving out their own unique path. Their live shows that they are more than just an outburst of rage: they have complexities to them too that hold accountable those whose views are designed to exclude and persecute. 

If there’s a band that you cannot miss live at the moment; removed and devoid from the algorithm, Prostitute is that show.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies

Belfast-Derry trio Kneecap are holding back no punches with third album FENIAN, it’s bolder, darker, funnier than ever…and undoubtedly their best work yet. 

Ever since their 2025 Coachella set and the British Government’s failed attempt to charge one of the trio, Mo Chara, with terrorism, it has felt like the whole world has been watching Kneecap. The trio’s rise to fame was subtle at first, following their hilarious biopic film, and then suddenly they skyrocketed to the centre of media attention due to how boldly they spoke out against the UK and US governments, completely unafraid of the backlash that would follow.. Their third album, FENIAN, is the outcome of that backlash and shows them firmly standing their ground against the oppressors. 

FENIAN starts with the gorgeous, hypnotic Éire go Deo, which translates to "Ireland Forever." It feels almost spoken word, set behind a wavey, pulsing beat and ethereal female vocals repeating Éire go Deo throughout, almost chant-like. It’s a rallying cry for the Irish language, the importance of its existence and the need to keep it alive. Which is, among many others, one of Kneecap’s primary goals. It bleeds straight into the powerhouse track, Smugglers & Scholars, which was the trio’s second single to be released from the album. 

Smugglers & Scholars kicks the album off with an almighty bang, opening with heavy, ominous, industrial hip-hop beats, using the music to replicate the sound of guns and police sirens, all of it held together by the dirty bass riff and na buachaillí's (the boys') intense vocals. It sheds a poignant light on the Troubles, and the unity of the Irish people during those times, coming together to fight for a better future “Now all the boys in black at the shops / with petrol bombs and their favourite rocks…Seo Fenian gluaiseacht (this is a Fenian movement).” It’s a tale from the past that relates directly to our current reality. 

And it’s important to note that before becoming a derogatory word for the Irish people, Fenians (Fianna) were warriors in Irish folklore, and Kneecap not only naming their album and one of the tracks FENIAN, but using it consistently throughout the album (and their previous work) is a simple and really poetic form of protest. 

After Smugglers & Scholars,  Kneecap lead us from Ireland’s Troubles straight to the Carnival, a Massive Attack-style track that reflects on the recent attempts by the British Government to prosecute Mo Chara, as well as using Kneecap to distract from their involvement in Israel’s genocide of Gaza. 

There is a grittier, more progressive sound on this album compared to Kneecap’s earlier work; it is darker, heavier, more precise, fuelled by anger, frustration, as well as determination. This is all quite evident on Carnival, which opens with the voice of an English judge calling Mo Chara to the stand. The judge pronouncing Mo Chara’s name incorrectly is a nice and necessary dig at the Brits' dismissal of the Irish Language, while the sound of protestors chanting “Free Mo Chara, free, free Mo Chara” between verses adds to the intensity of the track. Kneecap labels the British Government a “circus of distractions / away from their actions they’ll lead you.” While Mógalí Bap, defending his friend and bandmate, sheds light on the government consistently targeting the wrong side,  “investigate the people joining armies…instead of those opposing fucking genocide.” 

The ongoing genocide in Palestine is further addressed in their song Palestine ft. FAWZI. It’s a chill-inducing track from the moment it begins, a mix of Irish and Arabic, it symbolises not only the strong relationship between Ireland and Palestine, but their similar shared histories. Kneecap have consistently spoken up for Palestine and against Israel, the US and the UK and in doing so have been unfairly labelled as sceimhlitheoirí (terrorists), live performances censored and almost banned, taken to court, US Visas revoked,  smear campaigns against them…the list goes on. Yet, none of this has stopped them; there simply is no stopping them. The track Palestine is fearless, honest, a statement made by the band, “Ní stopfamid go mbeidh gach duine saor”, which translates to “we will not stop until everyone is free.”  There’s no arguing it, and you're either with Kneecap or you're not in this fight for freedom (if you’re not, I think you’re listening to the wrong album). 

Liars Tale, the first single released from the album, is a fiery, acid-house track that’s once again aimed at the British Government, calling out their lies and hypocrisy, particularly on the subject of Israel’s ongoing genocide of Gaza. Despite Kier Starmer and the rest of the British Government’s attempts to silence Kneecap over the last year, the band are not standing down. The British Government have only added fuel to Kneecap’s fire, and they’ve used that fire to produce one momentous track after another. Title track FENIAN comes next, and if any of the tracks were to get you itching to go raving in a festival field, it’ll certainly be this one. It’s infectious, fun and full of Irish Pride. 

Kneecap keep up the momentum throughout the album, going into Big Bad Mo, a massive acid-house track that certainly takes you on a trip, bringing you straight into Headcase. Both tracks already feel destined for late nights/early mornings at festivals, raves, house parties, with the latter track being a brilliant yet hectic piece of music focusing on addiction and how it can end up being your ruin. Despite the name, An Ra is not what you might think it’s about. It’s a blistering piece of satire, taking aim at the Ríocht Aontaithe (United Kingdom). Kneecap don’t hold back, firing punches left, right and centre at the Brits, focusing on their history of colonialism, far-right leadership and toxic capitalism “fish & chips / TV license / UKIP / mental health crisis / good shit / high rent prices.” It’s a fierce, almost venomous, diss-track disguised as a pure bop.

Cold At The Top carries an old-school hip-hop vibe to it, a satirical, self-deprecating tale on the narcissism and often the self-imposed isolation that comes with fame, “dún do bhéal / ciúin / never know when there’s a rat.”  Mo Chara and Mógalí Bap flow easily with each other between verses, all backed by the hypnotic trance beat provided by DJ Próvai. Occupied 6 is heavy in beat and in theme, the violence that comes with living under British Occupation and the trauma of war backed up by a seismic, bone-rattling mix of beats. 

The Belfast-Derry trio have long been advocates for the Irish Language, and their music is one of the many reasons so many people are now keen to learn or relearn their mother tongue. With Gael Phonics, the trio take Irish lessons into their own hands with punchy lyrics and a raw, 90s hip-hop beat,  “fuck the duo lingo bird / he be talking some shit / stick this on repeat, and you’ll be fluent / getting lit.” 

Cocaine Hill has a wavey, somewhat anxiety-inducing beat to accurately represent the all-consuming panic and anxiety that comes with a big night out. It’s twitchy, unsettling, with the addition of Radie Peat’s vocals on the chorus giving it a haunting, eerie feel. FENIAN comes ot a close with the gorgeous, tender Irish Goodbye, that features Kae Tempest. It’s both light and heavy at the same time, capturing the weight of grief that comes with losing a loved one without getting to say a proper goodbye, “mo chuisle, mo chroi / she was the making of me / how come it’s always the best of us that can’t bear to be.” 

FENIAN is rebellious, intelligent, fearless, poignant. It’s inherently Kneecap at its core, but it’s darker, heavier, more serious. After the turbulence of the last year, the band have grown, and it shows throughout FENIAN. It’s their most serious work yet, and necessary. It’s proof that they’re not afraid to take risks, no matter who it upsets or offends, they’re not just a performative act. 

Kneecap’s beliefs and what they stand for shine throughout FENIAN. It’s an album that will play a significant part in history, along with the band that made it.

Words by Angela English

Musically astute and effortlessly emotive emo legends American Football debut their most theatrical and moving compositions to date.

From facilitating the creation of the very genre they preside within, to becoming one of many excellent groups in the space, American Football have been consistently fantastic since their inception. With their twinkly yet earth-shattering guitar riffs and misplaced jazz drumming, they took over not only the Midwest but the world and even scored a collaboration pair of slip-on vans along the way. ‘’LP4’’ is a drastic extension of the band’s soul; it is without question their most dramatic and emotive yet, functioning more as a vessel for emotional progression, uttering a thousand words without actually saying any. This album, like each of its predecessors, is wild, creative, and densely packed with layered riffs and musical expertise. It’s almost difficult to put into words (which I understand is deeply ironic) the way that this album affects you; it’s deeper than just the music, instead presenting itself more as a piece of art, and if there has ever been an album or a band that is museum-worthy, it’s these guys. 

The album starts elegantly, as most of theirs do, with ‘Man Overboard’; this cinematic intro sequence lifts you out of your seat and into your headphones before the drums can even get started. Soundscapes have always been a very large part of the experience for an American Football album, but this one is a cut above the rest. It’s a really thin line to walk between a well-made soundscape and an overproduced finished product, but the needle falls directly on the impressive side yet again for them. The drumming in this song is motion-sickness-inducing, it’s sporadic and tidal, yet it conforms perfectly to the aim of the track and grasps the momentum of the song with both hands. This cinematic swell carries through the entire album as it pushes onwards through its lengthy tracks, and we are gifted some other truly sensational experiences. While this album is most definitely best listened to in solace and in one sitting, there are tracks that can be picked out and appreciated on their own without feeling out of place, one of these tracks is number 2 in the 10-track running order and the most recent single ‘No Feeling’ with Turnstiles Brendan Yates. This is, without question, the most ethereal and vast sound that American Football has cultivated to date. This song takes its time at every layer, allowing for emphatic swells and floaty riffs to couple with the otherworldly vocal performances from both Yates and Kinsella, both of which are guaranteed to stand the test of time and one day become an emo classic that will be isolated in a million TikToks. The remainder of the first half of the album contains even more musical brilliance, and the deeper cuts act more like a silent film than they do songs. There are lots of very instrument-heavy sections in these tracks, as there usually are; for instance, the debut single ‘Bad Moons’ and track number 5 ‘The One with the Piano’ are full of these emotive and lengthy pieces that are truly emotionally moving and powerful. This is something that the band have always thrived doing, and I think this album might be the absolute best example of this. The latter acts as somewhat of an interlude, bridging the gap between the middle and end, but it also stands completely on its own as an honest and raw piece.

After crossing the jazz-laden bridge of the aforementioned ‘The One With The Piano’, which in fact contains just as much trumpet a sit does piano, the needle falls, and the B-side starts turning. None of the tracks from the second half of the album were released as singles, and while this is understandable, it does not detract from the quality of the songs. The second half of the album is where the band get entrenched in the process and the flow of the music. Everything feels like it has an element of risk attached to its familiarity, its daring and obscure in a way that remains intriguing while still sitting on the edge of the familiar. ‘Wake Her Up’ and ‘Desdemona’ are a perfect flow of this; they blend seamlessly while still keeping their individual identity. Both tracks contain a plethora of time changes and rogue instruments, with the trumpet in the former being an absolute all-time performance for them. The latter contains a blend of off-key notes and some slow-moving yet transcendental, classically twinkly riffs that make you feel right at home while still branching out and keeping things interesting. As the album draws to a close, we get another short-lived yet beautifully crafted interlude, ‘Lullaby’, and the name suits perfectly. It remains dulcet and relaxed and adds in what sounds like a xylophone; it's gentle, calming, and homelike, it sounds like being carried from the car to your bed at 7 years old. That’s one thing that this album does extremely well: it makes you experience memories and parts of your life as the notes unfold, and it truly feels like the soundtrack to a flashback. The album closer ‘No Soul to Save’ pulls all the elements of the previous songs together and works them into one smooth-running, slightly jovial track that contrasts brilliantly with its themes and lyrics of shame and wanting to cower from the world for fear of being seen a bit too clearly. This track encapsulates how the band have operated for years and does so in the pocket the entire time, every note is in the right place and creates a water-tight and truly awe-inspiring.

‘LP4’ is another masterclass in a long line of masterclasses, and with a world tour on the horizon, the translation from studio to stage is bound to be mesmerising and truly unmissable. This band has been there for the birth of the genre and continues to support it from the roots to the top to this day, and for them to continue releasing music that rivals their first album is something I feel very honoured to be able to witness, so when they come knocking, make sure you buy tickets, just double-check they aren’t for the NFL.

Words by Josh Pook

Genesis Owusu returns with a track as unstoppable as life itself.

After releasing “STAMPEDE” last month, the second single from “REDSTAR WU & The Worldwide Scourge” similarly wastes no time in getting started. A relentless drum & bass throughline is thrown straight in your face from the jump, and it never lets up, which given the song’s title feels entirely deliberate. The accompanying video, filmed in Ghana’s iconic Black Star Square, sets the tone immediately: Genesis Owusu shadowboxing in suit trousers and a white shirt, pacing, coiling, gearing up. You get the sense something is about to detonate.

The verses are braggadocious in the best way. Owusu is feeling himself, and rightfully so. 

“Pull the S off my chest, I’m just a man / If what you’re seeing is a God, well guess again.” 

Lines like that don’t land by accident. One of Owusu’s finest attributes has always been his songwriting, and here it cuts through the chaos with precision, undercutting any messianic reading of his own persona while somehow making him sound more untouchable for it.

Musically, the track is frantic by design. The DnB backbone conjures a genuine sense of urgency and disorder, and the hook leans into it, with “what is this” looping over and over, disoriented, almost bewildered. The drums mirror the song’s own thesis: life is relentless, disobedient, and it will not wait for you to catch up.

Then, in the final third, everything shifts. An atmospheric synth swells in, lifting the track to something approaching the spiritual. The energy doesn’t ease; it mutates. The verses turn more aggressive, more declaratory, and the video strips back to a shirtless Owusu, still shadowboxing, still unbroken. One-liners rain down in the closing stretch, each one landing with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s building toward.

Another strong single as he bears down on a May 15th release date. His 2021 record “Smiling With No Teeth” was a cultural landmark, and the signs from these early singles suggest “REDSTAR WU & The Worldwide Scourge” is in good shape to follow suit. The promise is very much there.

Words by Alex Peters

Let us introduce you to Dublin trio DIVIL - who have just released their debut single 'Thanks A Million'.

The band’s story is deeply personal. Spending their childhoods learning instruments together in primary school, the trio had fallen out of touch as adults. They hadn't been in the same room together for nearly a decade, until the night of Danny's father's funeral. Late into the night, Conor watched Danny and Jocelyn sing "The Rocky Road to Dublin" to close friends and family. Struck by the intensity of their musical bond, he knew that when the time was right, they should write music together. The following month, Conor is diagnosed with cancer. In the wake of these life-altering events, music becomes their way to reconnect, process grief, and lean on each other in ways words alone cannot.

“Thanks A Million” is the first song they write as DIVIL. The band recalls: “The initial verse riff on the bass, Dun Dun Dun, came easy, but we just couldn’t figure out a way to turn it into a song. We worked on it for weeks because we knew we had something special, but it just didn't fit together. One night, we tried flipping it around and making the verse the chorus and then wrote a whole new verse part. Then Danny came up with the chorus lyrics & melody, which solidified the song.”

With their new EP out on the 19th June this year - they took a moment to talk to us about their music.

Hey there Danny from DIVIL - how are you? So your debut track ‘Thanks A Million’ is out now - can you tell us what it is about? 
I’m very well thank you. I suppose Thanks A Million is a song about depression and subsequently being pulled out of it by friends or family. There is definitely grief in there and a nodge of self loathing, but ultimately the chorus message is one of gratitude, translated by the much used Irish phase “Thanks A Million” 
When I sing this, I imagine myself in a box room on day 2 or 3 of an internal battle. My father (who had only recently died at the time of writing the song) or an old friend or sibling is checking in on me- asking “are you alright?” In my mind I reply, “I’ll be right here, Thanks A Million.” 
The message of the song to me is “Yes I’m flawed and and I’m back in a rut and I’m no use to anyone at the moment, but with your help I will be back to my old self soon, thanks for being there for me 

Where are you from and what are your favourite things to do there? 
I (and we) as a band are from the Northside of Dublin, Ireland. My passion is Birds Of Prey and my favourite thing to do in Ireland is practice the oldest sport in the world (Falconry). For me this involves going onto farmland with a cast of harris hawks and ferrets. We send the ferret into the rabbits warren and we wait above for the rabbit to be flushed out, then the hawk is released from the glove and you get the privilege of watching the pursuit. Nine times out of ten, the rabbit evades the raptors talons, but a sick or old rabbit is more easily caught. Unfortunately rabbits don't have a natural avian predator here in Ireland so they can breed out of control. It only takes place in the winter so no breeding animals are disturbed. It's an environmentally sound form of pest control and also recognised by Eco Unesco as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. So basically, if you've ever put out a mouse trap don't come at me! 

What are the key influences when it comes to your music? 
My brother is a DJ, Ethnomusicology Dork and a 2 time scratch champion and multi instrumentalist and just an all round musical genius. My older sister is an incredible singer and actor and creative and my younger sister is an incredible actor, writer and comedian. 
I myself was a graff writer and was a sponsored skateboarder as a child so I feel like I got my musical taste from my adolescence from being heavily involved in the cultures of graffiti and skateboarding. My brother had my family home pumping with music all the time, lots of reggae, lots of traditional Irish music, lots of mad music from all over the world, cool bands coming and going, So I mainly listen to reggae and hip hop. I listen to some heavy guitar music but only for research.

How would you describe your sound to someone who has never listened to your music before? 
European white guy rock. 

Now the track is out there - what next for you? 
World Domination! 
Nah it is just going to be so good to have our first EP out in the world as we recorded it over a year ago. We have plans to do lots of shows and are just excited to be out in the world as a band.

This week's Band of the Week is Midlands four piece Blush Puppy - who have just released their new EP 'Here You Dream' via Venn Records.

‘Here You Dream’ is a five-track journey through fragility, disconnection and the search for release. Blush Puppy’s electrifying collision of emo, pop, grunge, alternative and metal is topped off with killer three-way harmonies, which are bound to become their signature. Previously-released single ‘Under The Water’ conjures the feeling of early 00’s emo singalong classics, but with crystal clear production (courtesy of Grammy Award winning Adrian Bushby [Foo Fighters, Muse]). “Each of us were struggling in different ways but with the same questions,” says drummer Harry Rogers when musing on the headspaces the band were in during the EP’s genesis. “These songs became a dream-space for us, a place to let go and breathe.” The whole EP was written in Harry’s shed. “It was pretty much always freezing, as it is literally a shed with a few seats in,” he admits. “But we made it work.”

An unlikely match of old classmates from the Midlands, the four members of Blush Puppy bonded through a love of music and sharing the experience of some of life’s challenges. “For us, music became the way out, the only way to take off the mask and breathe for a second. We’ve all been through difficult stuff, family fallouts, loss - we’re just trying to turn all the messy, complicated and overwhelming feelings into something positive,” says Osmond. The band’s creative chemistry, and love of bands such as: Bring Me The Horizon, Boston Manor, Turnstile, Deftones and Enter Shikari result in a fusion of pop hooks, raw rock energy, and flashes of metal intensity, all wrapped up in their unique triple vocal attack.

Their guitarist Luke Osmond took a moment to talk to us about how the EP came together.

Hey there Blush Puppy, how are you? So your EP is out now – how does it feel to have it out there?
It feels a bit surreal to be honest. These songs have lived in our heads and in the studio for so long, so finally having them out in the world feels really good. It’s like people are finally seeing a side of us we’ve been sitting on for a while.

It is called ‘Here You Dream' – what is the meaning behind that?
The name actually came about when we realised all of the songs we chose for the EP had this theme of sleep, dreaming, and that world between reality and what’s going on in your head. It’s that blurred line between what’s real and what isn’t. We kind of realised the EP itself feels like a place where you dream.

Where was it recorded? Any behind the scenes stories you are willing to share with us?
It was recorded with Adrian Bushby, and the whole process was pretty intense in the best way. We pushed everything quite far, sounds, performances, ideas. One moment that stood out was getting the gang vocal sound for the chorus in TEARS IN RAIN, me and Ciaran were stood in a big open room within the studio unit, with loads of natural reverb, just shouting the chorus in different voices over and over to build that effect.

What are the key influences behind the EP?
It’s quite a mix, heavy, grungy energy but with more melodic, almost pop leaning moments. We’ve always liked that contrast between something that hits hard but still sticks in your head. Bands like Bring Me The Horizon, Linkin Park, Deftones, and Alice in Chains definitely played a part, especially how Alice in Chains use harmonies.

If the EP could be a soundtrack to any film – which one and why?
It’d be interesting to hear it in something like Blade Runner with the atmospheric synth stuff we use, but honestly Lord of the Rings feels more fitting. We actually had it playing in the studio while recording, and there were moments, especially with STILL ASLEEP, where big battle scenes were on and the cinematic parts of the song just lined up weirdly well.

Do you have a favourite lyric on the EP? If so, which one and why?
“Behind every house, is a tale untold” from POLISH THE CHROME stands out. It’s about how everyone’s dealing with things you’d never realise from the outside. I also really like “five steps, you couldn’t breathe” from STILL ASLEEP, that came from a moment where we were chatting about films and Kill Bill came up, and we got onto the five point palm exploding heart technique, and it somehow found its way into the song.

Now the EP is out there – what next for you?
We’re focused on pushing it as far as we can. More shows and just getting it in front of as many people as possible. We’ve got a headline show coming up, and we just want to build momentum from here and take this as far as it can go. And alongside that, we’re already deep into writing what comes next.

Ronker, Test Plan and The Sad Season combine for a brilliant post-hardcore evening at the Lexington with one statement: you want loud music: you’ve come to the right place.

The weather is unfortunately against headliners Ronker tonight. It’s a beautiful sunny day and one of the first nicer spells of weather that we’ve had this year. That doesn’t stop them from gaining a core following of fans eager to mosh to the Belgian hardcore outfit, who doubted the Lexington’s virtue as a historic venue, but are quickly drawn under its spell by carving their own place in history among the praised names that have played there. They are nervous: and they have good reason to be: the support, The Sad Season’s frontman is Mike from the legendary prog metal band Sikth for the evening, and his stage presence is felt from the moment The Sad Season get on stage. Throw in Test Plan, noise rock DIY upstarts who deserve to be MUCH MUCH bigger than they are – and you have a great evening that you’ll look back on in a few months, think “oh, why wasn’t I there?” and then mourn missing out on the three bands who delivered the goods. For those who have braved the heat for the Lexington, it’s a special night. 

Test Plan are rapidly becoming an appointment band for me having seen them headline The Shacklewell Arms for a recent free show that drew a packed-out house in addition to various multi-venue festivals like Outer Town in Bristol. Max, Mike and Rory are the trio that make up this band – and they come on to electric single ‘my teeth’ that’s just an unrelenting wall of sound. I’ve seen crazier Test Plan moshes but there is a mosh, albeit a brief one; and the energy is ramped up with the pulsating beat of the drums that get more intense. Their chaotic, sprawling energy is a favourite at their live shows in the past and to open with it shows confidence that the rest of their back catalogue is going to be killer – the Latin-inspired drum beats that fit the vibe between either dancing or moshing perfectly; usually the latter, usually raw and impeccable – the portrayal of a religious figure losing their grip on sanity and reality kind of almost fits at home and reminded me a bit of the recent Danny Boyle picture 28 Years Later opening with the Priest in the Church being surrounded by zombies – it creates that kind of rage and catharsis that comes with chaos, distilled into a scene. By the time ‘So bored at your squat rave’ caps out the set, the hypnotic inducing lyrics have reached full effect. 

The Sad Season are a band that are at this point; an Arctangent festival house band who usually play the field early in the morning. They’re back in 2026 and if you missed them in 2025 you really should wake up early enough to get down to the Arc Stage for 11AM on the Friday slot – and with Mike Goodman from SiKTH as their lead, this side project feels like a real work of passion and craft. He’s a force of nature and the gnarly riffs; wild grooves are perfect to watch unfold; generating a fascinating crowd. It’s easy to see Mike has a background as a voice actor given his snarling, almost 70s like command of a lyrics transported to the present day. One of my favourite tracks from them is the brilliant ‘Hermits Under Blankets’, which asks the audience to “tell me what you see / rivers of blood” in a commanding, intoxicating way that just builds and builds; the shouts of “rivers of blood” and its repetition just reaching a crescendo with a fury of epic force. The distortions and mixing really give this a unique concept and the riffs are just-out-of-this-world nuts, and it’s almost appropriate that it feels like video game music at times (A COMPLIMENT) – in part because ‘The Breathing Out the Smoke’ features on Karma: The Dark World. It’s a band with a very refined sense of identity and purpose that pull you into their world and command your attention. 

Ronker come on and they’re in awe of the Lexington’s status; the walk up the venue shows you the historic bands, both in hardcore and outside, who have played there and fellow Belgian metallers Psychonaut; we’re told, rate the place highly from their performance earlier in the year. Naturally, there are a few fans at both. Ronker are here on an album tour to promote Respect the Hustle, I Won’t Be Your Dog Forever, so naturally; they have time to delight in trolling the audience with covers of Kelis’ Milkshake and Oasis’ Wonderwall, which Ronker frontman Jasper de Petten goads the British crowd by saying that it’s their national anthem. I’ve seen Milkshake performed in many styles as a go to crowd-starter; from indie to punk; but to see a hardcore rendition, complete with sharp vocals and the beginnings of a mosh – Ronker find a place in being able to deliver on something that’s just pure fun. Titular track ‘Respect the Hustle’ is the opener and it’s a thirteen song endless assault that delivers on the carnage from the word go: Particular favourites are ‘Clear the Air’ (“WE NEED TO CLEAR THE AIR SO LET’S TALK ABOUT IT”) that asks the audience to come and burn the midnight oil with them and, not from this record, ‘Goliath’ – the band harkening back to their 2023 album Self Loathing Self Help. They are able to shake up the setlist catering to audiences from different countries to deploy normal set closures mid set and experiment a bit outside of their native Belgium – where surely; they’re a contender for Rock Werchter’s illustrious Slope stage next year; or an appearance across the border at Jera on Air, which they’ve already slated themselves down to appear for, and the crowd there go absolutely nuts. 

If you like hardcore; and as hardcore does whenever giants like SPEED are in town, break into the popular music discourse, and were maybe convinced by your first ever hardcore show at the Ballroom to check out more acts, Ronker are that act to take the next step; they cater to fans both new and old and lay their passion bear on the stage. They drift into IDLES territory but also have post-hardcore vibes – and ‘No Sweat’ goes down a stormer: “I don’t care about the stress no more / I’m in love with machinery’ allows the band to talk about the ease-of-access and how everything is available instantly to us it allows for the prioritisation of instant gratification over the need to think – and talks about those who stayed at home; relaxing, whilst the rest of us are going out and living, rejoicing. Getting engrossed in the screen means missing out on nights like this: and where else would you rather be than moshing – often; given the tight quarter of the crowd; with the members of the Sad Season and Test Plan; who stuck around for the headliners – to Ronker’s fury, fast-paced; high-bar post hardcore explosion!

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies

ANOHNI brings her Wilderness tour to the Barbican to deliver the most spellbinding, purely magical set you’ll see in a lifetime. 

Clad all in black and entering the Barbican to a stunned silence and a wall of static noise, ANOHNI is about to embark on a life-changing show that few are capable of bettering, that few can come anywhere close to matching. Her skills as art rock are visionary, moving beyond her seismic environment rallying cry about the Great Barrier Reef that she performed last year with the Johnsons, to deliver a breathtakingly intimate solo set of renewed proportions and spirit: this is the Wilderness tour, a celebration of her work to date so far – and a reminder that change, yes, real change – can be accomplished if the mind is set to do the right thing.

The 14 song setlist is perfectly crafted that spans both original songs and covers: Lou Reed, Jamie Saft and Bob Dylan all get a run out in the early half of the set; ANOHNI’s take on I Was Young When I Left Home feels raw and complex, utterly emotional. Equally she brings a different, unique twist on Perfect Day, the Lou Reed classic – able to take both songs and do what few can, make them completely and utterly her own. If you wouldn’t have already known they were covers – you’d think she came up with them herself. But it’s a touching tribute to a mentor, Reed, who gave her a platform to British audiences in the 2003 album The Raven, where she sang a version of Candy Says. The striking performances are given renewed weight here – and they feel fresh and recharged.

Anger can be fuelled as energy and you get a sense of palpable rage through ANOHNI’s lyrics: Drone Bomb Me, deployed in the run up to a break with euphoric cheers from a devoted crowd, has never felt more relevant: “Blow my head off / explode my crystal guts / lay my purple on the grass” she chants, luring audience in an avant-rock protest song about the evils of war: this was thematically backed up in the album release by a song just titled Obama; not featured in the live set – what an ANOHNI record now would make of a Trump Presidency we can only wonder. 

Thom Yorke once said that “If I was going to write a song about climate change in 2015 it would be shit,” and that it was much harder to do that now than in the 1960s. ANOHNI’s Wilderness tour and her record Hopelessness feels like an instant answer to that: no, sit down, you’re wrong – if anything, it’s got even more relevant with age: released back in 2016 and still carrying as much thematic weight as the old school protest songs – interestingly, the Dylan song chosen here is not one of his protest tracks – or at least; what might appear one as not at first glance: instead what was something she worked on with Bryce Dessner in 2009. 

Dylan’s analysis further adds to his myth; “all these songs are connected / I thought I was just extending the line” and that shows the evolution of this track and how it can keep going long beyond him, given different styles and different journeys. Having since been repurposed under Anohni for Dark Was the Night for the Red Hot Organization, It’s very much used here with giving this song a sense of yearning and homesickness for the past – thematic weight when incorporated with a set full of nostalgia for a world irreversibly changed by the climate crisis. 

The eco-feminist themes running through this set give added depth and weight to her electronic, experimental avant-classical music. In the back half of the set – white text over screen ascends over an otherwise blacked out stage – and offers an answer to what could be done to combat the overwhelming feeling of despair: creativity. “the hunger of mosquitos / the emotions of prostitutes / the abandoned and forgotten places inhabited by people like me / wilderness her creativity: searching, endless, non-hierarchical revolving, emerging designs. I imagine there was a point within un-ness that became sentient.  His horror of his aloneness, of his un-ness, drove him to reach a new survival strategy: creativity.” 

The set may not use feature interviews with scientists and live footage of the great barrier reef that her set in 2025 did; when watched under lights at Primavera Sound festival, Barcelona, so incredibly breathtaking in its own right – the build-up to set-closure 4 Degrees has lost none of its impact, talking up the rise in global temperature and the wish list that triggers the impending apocalypse “I want to hear the dogs crying for water / I want to see the fish go belly up in the sea / and all those lemurs and all those tiny creatures / I want to see them burn”. 

It is as much a teardown of an oil lord as it is her complicity of her own self in the climate crisis and 4 Degrees; thematic weight is so deeply resonating it will bring the right audience to tears. It’s uniquely perfect in its portrayal of oversight and arrogance and how it can humble someone: the show here at the Barbican is sold out, and there is not a soul in the room sitting down by the time ANOHNI brings her set to an emotional, therapeutic close. 

This is the kind of once-in-a-lifetime show that everyone should have the chance to experience at least once. Wilderness transports you to a whole new world for the length of its runtime: 7:30, more or less, through to 9pm, no support, straight in – because what support could even hope to get the crowd ready for *that*? There are few who could. The Barbican is the perfect home for a venue like this: and it feels completely and utterly transformative.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies
Photo Credit: Mark Allan

There is something about Noah Kahan’s new album that feels familiar. “The Great Divide” is comforting in a way that’s hard to manufacture. 

Kahan leans fully into this sense of warmth and nostalgia, delivering a record that feels both like a continuation of everything fans already love, whilst marking a subtle, searching step forward.

From the first listen, it’s clear - this is unmistakably Noah Kahan. The layered vocals, the homely, almost fireside intimacy, it has it all. But what elevates “The Great Divide” beyond a simple retread is the emotional clarity running through it. If “Stick Season” was his breakthrough, this feels like the reckoning that follows.

The emotional depth of this album is sharpened further if you’ve seen his recent documentary “Noah Kahan: Out of Body,” it reframes the singer-songwriter not just as a storyteller, but as someone actively living through the weight of the stories he tells. The documentary peels back the curtain on his personal struggles, and “The Great Divide” feels, in many ways, like the musical counterpart. It’s intimate, vulnerable, and unflinchingly human.

The title track, “The Great Divide,” sets the tone early. It echoes the emotional DNA of “Orange Juice,” tracing the quiet aftermath of a fractured relationship, with a kind of aching goodwill. It’s the sound of wishing someone well from a distance and despite the fact that you are no longer close, you still want the best for them.

Kahan explains that this was “the first time he sat down with a guitar since Stick Season,” adding that it “felt like there’s a real story here that feels sonically where I want to be and comes from a more mature place, but also lyrically is touching on something that’s not retreading ground for me.”

Elsewhere, “Paid Time Off” leans further into folk, its foot-tapping rhythm, whilst “Willing and Able” stands out as one of the record’s most affecting moments. A portrait of sibling love in all its messy, unfiltered honesty, it captures the peculiar intimacy of relationships that can swing from tenderness to conflict in seconds. Lines like “we can fight like we used to fight, boney limbs, red-faced and teary-eyed” and “so come on, let’s fight about the childhood like we don’t care what the other one thinks” feel almost intrusive in their specificity in the best way. And then, in a quiet gut-punch, “wish I could do nothing with you” lands as a simple but devastating expression of the way that life can get in the way.

There’s a noticeable willingness across the album to let songs breathe and have their time to shine. Many stretch longer than expected, unspooling at their own pace rather than rushing toward a hook.

Still, Kahan hasn’t lost his instinct for anthems. “Dashboard” and “Deny Deny Deny” have all the makings of a live staple, they are the kind of songs destined to be screamed back at him in arenas and stadiums. It’s easy to imagine them echoing across massive crowds this summer, a shared catharsis between artist and audience.

“Headed North” is like a conversation, or more, a letter to a friend - the whole album is conversational as Kahan tells a story whilst warmth of his voice just melts into the tones that fans know and love.

And yet, for all the scale his career has reached, “The Great Divide” feels rooted in something much smaller. Recorded across spaces like a secluded farm outside Nashville and intimate studio environments, the album carries a sense of isolation that mirrors its themes. Kahan himself has spoken about the strange loneliness that can follow success, that disorienting feeling of achieving everything you dreamed of and still feeling unmoored. That tension sits at the heart of this record.

“It’s a life,” he adds of his new normal, “that quite frankly I didn’t feel like I deserved or even earned.

“You’d be surprised by how many people feel isolated by success and isolated by the big moment.”

To that end, as has long been his natural bent, Kahan channelled this admittedly uncomfortable tension into highly detailed yet universally relatable songs that now appear on his forthcoming album. “I think it’s important to be honest about what it really feels like for me right now,” he adds of his creative mindset.

Ultimately, “The Great Divide” doesn’t try to reinvent Noah Kahan. It doesn’t need to. Instead, it refines what he does best: capturing the quiet, complicated emotions that live between life’s big moments.

It’s the sound of an artist learning how to sit with his own contradictions, and inviting listeners to do the same - he’s just a regular person who grew up in a small town and wants people to know that it’s okay to struggle and to talk about these struggles, because at the end of the day, we’re all human.

Words by Hollie Carr

Basement smash it out of the park yet again with 4th single ‘Head Alight’ for brand new album ‘WIRED’ ahead of its release on May 8th.

Basement has been on an absolute tear the last few months, gearing up for their vastly anticipated new album ‘WIRED’, they have released 4 singles that have continued to build excitement in their own way. Every track covers ground the band has touched on before, but does so more completely and definitively than ever. With every single taking on a new sonic profile, it creates the picture of an expansive and truly brilliant album that covers all bases and ‘Head Alight’ is confirmation of this. With the first two singles being polar opposites, one brash and non-conforming and one mellow, nostalgic and colourful and the third single released at the end of last month being the perfect middle ground of angst and elegance. This created a balanced and eclectic sound, and now, with their final single before the album, they have proven that they can do just about anything.

‘Head Alight’ is a brilliantly spacious and verbose sound that sits on the slower, more dramatic end of their large catalogue. The dulcet and gorgeous one-note vocals are laid over a very indie-feeling effects background that is paired perfectly with some stretched and reverbed chords that create this dense and expansive atmosphere. This song could be played on repeat forever and would not even begin to get boring. Every listen contains a new surprise and fragment of joy as the layers and layers of guitar, bass and drums that have been intricately woven together blend seamlessly, allowing the sound to stay familiar and relatively simplistic while remaining a gift that keeps on giving. Basement have always been tight-knit musically, both their live performances and their recordings are synchronised down to the note, but this album takes that to an entire new level, they power through every track working in unison as a musical hive mind, every single note works with its counterpart in an almost scientific pattern. Someone needs to study the sheer talent contained within this band and try to convince them to start making jazz music just to see what happens.

As the release window pulls nearer and nearer it's clear that this album is going to explode, its already fizzing underneath the surface off of the back of these four symphonies, but with an in-store release show tour planned and a slew of listening parties, festival appearances and shows announced this year is bound to send them into the stratosphere and it’s about damn time. This Ipswich 5-piece has been infinitely hard working and dedicated to their craft since their initial releases over a decade ago and to see them finally get their flowers not just across the hardcore and alternative genres but to see them bleed into indie and pop influenced genres and absolutely nail it tells me that now is the time to get in so you can brag to your friends that you saw them in a 400 cap venue before they became megastars, because it's just over the horizon.

Words by Josh Pook

Keep note of rising North Yorkshire/London lo-fi folk artist Natalie Wildgoose - who has just released her new EP 'Rural Hours'.

Taking a year to make, amidst long stretches of solitude, Rural Hours nevertheless sees Natalie return to the quiet richness of a folk ensemble. Never content to simply shack up in a recording studio however - with backing from the PRS for Women fund - she brought musicians Chris Brain (with whom she collaborates regularly) and Owen Spafford to a bothy high up in an isolated part of the Yorkshire Dales, two hours walk from the nearest village and without heating or electricity. Playing by candlelight, songs inspired by life and loss in North Yorkshire, by Emily Dickinson’s letters, or the Sibylline oracle of Ancient Greece play against the crackle of the fire and the wild winds blowing outside.

It’s an approach typical of Natalie’s artistic method. Spending her time scouring for pianos in remote corners of the Yorkshire Dales, she finds them in Victorian mills, grade II listed village halls, isolated chapels and A letting the spaces themselves shape the music. Recording music of her music to tape, it carries the rarefied qualities of an unearthed archive recording, seeking to slow down the frantic pace of modern life; uncovering the past, and reconnecting with the environments of the places and communities that hold her.

She took a moment to talk to us about how the EP came together.

Hey there Natalie, how are you? So your EP is out now how does it feel to have it out there?
Hello! My heart is filled with love and beyond gratitude. It has taken a year to create, and I am so grateful to have been given the opportunity to make it. The support from PRS Women Make Music, state51, and all the people who have put time and love into this project means so much, I am very lucky to have them in my life.

⁠It is called ‘Rural Hours' what is the meaning behind that?
Living between London and the moors of North Yorkshire, I am always searching for pianos in forgotten corners of the Dales. For much of the making of Rural Hours, I was alone, isolated in these buildings, writing songs in quiet rooms where time stretched. Later, I invited my friends and fellow musicians Owen Spafford, Chris Brain, Chester Caine, Matt Robinson, and artist and filmmaker Nina Maria Allmoslechner to enter the space and add their presence.

⁠Where was it recorded? Any behind the scenes stories you are willing to share with us?
The record was made in Victorian mills, historic village halls, and remote chapels, letting the spaces themselves shape the music. Being in such remote and sometimes difficult places, where everyday worries become so small, was incredibly important in influencing the writing.
For the last track on the EP, ‘In The North’, we were recording in a chapel next to a waterfall near my local village. I had already done two or three takes, and on the fourth, near the end, I felt this is the one. Suddenly, an RAF fighter jet flew overhead. These planes can break the sound barrier, they are so loud, and it tore through the song. I kept that recording as it is, and you can hear the plane in the background.

⁠What are the key influences behind the EP?
There are many influences all around me in the spaces where I write. I use a lot of poetry to help inform my lyrics, and I also love researching the history of the spaces beforehand.

⁠If the EP could be a soundtrack to any film which one and why?
Oh, I like this question. This film already has an amazing soundtrack, but I love Pride and Prejudice by Joe Wright.

⁠Do you have a favourite lyric on the EP? If so, which one and why?
Maybe:
“Nearly happy again, in the winter night rain,
with the hillsides and the woods,
saw the grave where you stood,
you’d said the future looks good,
In The North.”

⁠Now the EP is out there what next for you?
I have a tour with LYR starting on Thursday 16th April, and then lots of live shows for the rest of the year booked in, so I’ll be on the road quite a bit. Hopefully there will be some time to sit and start writing again, maybe an album.