BLEED FROM WITHIN/Disembodied Tyrant/Baest; Rock City, Nottingham; 08/03/26

Bleed from Within are having a bit of a moment. More than 20 years into their careers, the Glasgow metalcore crew have suddenly found themselves very much in the ascendancy after substantial time plugging away in the underground. Such has been the strength of their determination to not be left behind, that they've supported some true heavyweights, such as Trivium and Slipknot, manifested stellar performances at Download and have a sub-headline slot lined up at this summer's Bloodstock. All of which means that it's about damn time that they headlined a tour of their own. This is what has brought them back to Rock City's hallowed hall on a Sunday night in early March, and they've recruited some strong support acts as accompaniment. 

BAEST (pronounced to rhyme with 'paste' and taken from the Danish word for 'beast' or 'brute') get proceedings underway in front of a crowd that are more than up for an evening of heavy metal to distract from the Sunday scaries. Their mix of old school death metal and contemporary metalcore goes down a storm, with the first pits of the night opening almost immediately. By the time vocalist Simon Olsen is in the middle of the floor with a circle pit swirling around him, they have the crowd in the palms of their hands. They even take the bold step of asking people to sit down for a song intro, which leads to the obligatory floor rowing. Throughout their set, it's pretty clear that the band are having the time of their lives. One perma-smiling guitarist is clothed in a Van Halen T-shirt, which seems appropriate when he blazes out a solo that the late, legendary Eddie Van Halen would have been more than chuffed with. The songs are tight, with buzzsaw riffs, chugging percussion and genuine, lighters aloft, singalong choruses. They close on a stompy slice of quasi-industrial thrash that would not seem out of place on an Amon Amarth album. The band's genuine enthusiasm for their craft and the strength of the songs, alongside what seem to be their all-around friendliness and approachability, earn them many a new supporter on the night. 

If you were asked to list the US states that have produced bands who've had a profound influence on the alternative music scene you'd likely list California, Florida and Washington for starters, and then maybe Georgia, Massachusetts and Louisiana if you're a bit further initiated. You'd probably be highly unlikely to mention Missouri. DISEMBODIED TYRANT are certainly looking to change that, with their expansive technical death metal. From the get-go, they fire out some truly ferocious sounds, with guttural vocals from frontman Blake Mullens backed by thunderous blastbeats and furiously picked guitars. Amongst the brutality, there are softer moments with symphonic edges and almost classical time signatures that call to mind Lorna Shore, with whom the similarities are clear. All-in-all, they're certainly a gnarly proposition and aren't just here to make up the numbers. There are some genuinely atmospheric sequences which point to much more grandiose ambitions. For the most part, they seek to bludgeon. Crowd interaction calls primarily to make the pits bigger and faster. This does slightly backfire as the band are forced to pause twice due to people getting slightly too carried away. Despite their relatively young career thus far, they've proven that their gameplan extends beyond just making as much noise as possible. Guitarist Dominic Petrocelli, with staring eyes and shit-eating grin, is presumably hoping they get big enough to employ a merch person so he no longer has to pull double duty.

By the time BLEED FROM WITHIN take to the stage, the atmosphere inside Rock City has risen to fever pitch. It's been pandemonium amongst the crowd for both support bands and the anticipation seems to hang in the air as the backing tape plays a selection of  classic rock, nu-metal anthems and, presumably in a nod to their home turf, Baccara's 70s party classic 'Yes Sir, I Can Boogie'. Just as the guitar riff for 'Livin' on a Prayer' is about to kick in, the lights go down and the band emerge, firing straight into the title track from last year's magnificent Zenith album. What follows is an hour and a quarter of exceptional metalcore from a band who genuinely can't seem to believe that they're here. 

This tour, dubbed the Dying Sun Tour, is their first proper headline tour in decent sized venues. In fact, this show was upgraded from neighbouring Rescue Rooms after tickets sold out in 24 hours, making it the biggest venue that the band will visit during this leg. It's clear from the outset that they are genuinely humbled and affected by both the size of the crowd and the strength of the reception. Wave after wave of crowdsurfers pass over the barrier and don't let up, including the same banana attired gentleman from last month's Avatar show. To say that Bleed from Within are in fine form doesn't quite do justice to the quality of the performance and the proficiency on display. It helps that the songs sound positively monumental. The End of All We Know is an absolute banger and generates the first proper singalong, despite being dropped very early in the set. More big hitters are to come. The soaring chorus of Levitate sounds absolutely mighty, especially when backed by thousands of extra voices. Violent Nature showcases the range of the band's influences, with the kind of sludgy riff-driven breakdown that Mastodon have been building on for years. They have the audacity to replicate Slipknot's penchant for asking people to kneel down and jump up during I Am Damnation. The knees of every 30+ year old in the room will be screaming for mercy on Monday morning. God Complex is a monster of a song in its own right and they bring back Simon from Baest for this version. He ends up stranded mid crowdsurf and eventually steered back to the front of the room. Bleed from Within are clearly relishing the opportunity to headline in these sorts of venues. Scott Kennedy could not be more pleased with the turnout and gushes between songs about how the loyalty and support of their fans has gotten them this far. In tribute to the strength of this bond, the band have chosen a setlist that reflects their longevity. Whilst around half the set is populated with songs from Zenith, they've thrown in some deep cuts for this tour. That means Leech from 2013's Uprising makes an appearance. Scott admits that the band don't play songs from this particular album much as they 'think it's shite' so this is a privilege indeed. It definitely goes down well, with a surging riff and barrelling rhythm. So too, Lamb of God indebted Fracture track A Depth That No One Dares, which features Scott doing his best Randy Blythe impression, sounds positively monstrous. 

To explain Bleed from Within's sudden rise to this level, you have to look beyond the songs and at the close relationship between the band members. Beyond the well-oiled heavy metal machine, there's a genuine camaraderie that shines through, particularly when things don't go according to plan. At one point Scott accidentally flicks his microphone off the stage whilst the rest of the band carry on like nothing has happened. Drummer Ali, a bonafide force of nature, winds Scott up by starting a drum fill when he tries to talk to the crowd. The bonds between the band have helped them forge what they've created. What they've created is a band destined for greatness. Metalcore seems to be having a bit of a purple patch and Bleed from Within are certainly at the front of the queue. The musicianship is impeccable. Davie Provan's rumbling bass underpins everything whilst guitarists Craig and Steven are finely tuned magicians of their art. The latter's clean vocals are the perfect counterpoint to Scott's unclean growl. Throughout the set, the crowd are completely hooked. Not one song goes unappreciated, which speaks volumes about the quality of the offering. By the time things come to a close, on a pummelling In Place of Your Halo, Scott is simultaneously kneeling whilst being held aloft by the crowd. It's just a shame that the live piper they've used for outdoor performances of the bagpipe breakdown isn't present. However, make no mistake, this is an utter triumph. No streamers, no confetti, and none of the pyro that they've gotten accustomed to using in larger arenas. Just 5 lads from Glasgow levelling a medium sized room in the East Midlands. Get used to seeing Bleed from Within topping bills and in front of exponentially bigger crowds. This is more than just a moment. This is their time. 

Bleed From Within Setlist

Zenith

The End of All We Know

Pathfinder

Alive

Violent Nature

A Hope in Hell

Invisible Enemy

Dying Sun

Levitate

Leech

God Complex

A Depth That No One Dares

I Am Damnation

In Place of Your Halo

AVATAR/Alien Weaponry/Witch Club Satan; Rock City, Nottingham; 17/02/26

Mention the name Avatar to most people and the word will conjure images of James Cameron's multi-billion dollar film franchise. Unless they're very much in the know, they probably won't associate it with a Swedish band who specialise in what's best described as avant-garde demonic circus metal. But, the truth of it is that the Molndal quintet are 25 years into their career and they seem to love a UK February show. Four years on from their last tour, they're back in town, touting a new album and with new support to back them up. 

WITCH CLUB SATAN kick things off, to a room filled with curious onlookers. The all-female Norwegian trio aim to use their gnarly, pagan black metal to reclaim feminine power in what is, sadly, still a misogynistic genre. They take to the stage, dressed in outfits that resemble possessed deer/rabbit hybrids and begin what is best described as a ritual, with bursts of riff punctuated by screams and periods of spoken word. They then disappear off stage and return a few moments later, in the nude, to complete the set. The second half is the most interesting musically, with the blackest of riffs showcasing the influence of such genre luminaries as Mayhem and Satyricon. It's an exercise in potent, politically charged BM with hellish vocals and the deepest and darkest instrumentation, all blastbeats and doom-laden downtuning. Unfortunately, the response is somewhat mixed. The stop-start nature of the opening half of the set seems to have confused and alienated some, and there are way too many phones in the air, which raises questions about safeguarding. The ambition is admirable and they've definitely earned themselves some new fans and some considerable respect along the way, but the question remains as to whether their controversial performance style will translate as they hope, and be a beacon of feminine strength in an increasingly polarised world.

Where Witch Club Satan aim to take back the power of the female form, ALIEN WEAPONRY are aiming to reclaim indigenous Maori culture through the medium of thrash. The three lads from New Zealand, brothers Henry and Lewis de Jong, on drums and guitar respectively, alongside bass player Turanga Morgan-Edwards (who joined in 2020), have been plying their trade since they were literally children and have definitely grown into their roles and significantly developed their command of the stage. The emerge to the sounds of a traditional Haka being played over the sound system, with Henry himself performing part of the dance. In a room such as this, it's easy to see why it has been used to terrify generations of opposing rugby players. What follows is 45 minutes of well-executed, old-school thrash with some prog elements, all sung in the native Maori tongue. All of the band are of Maori descent and have loaded their songs with disgruntled tirades against the colonialism that destroyed and co-opted much of the indigenous culture. Not only do the songs carry a message, they hit hard. The core thrash elements are all present and correct. Chugging riffs and machine gun drumming carry Lewis's guttural, rage-inflected vocals. Rooms like this suit Alien Weaponry down to a tee. The songs that first got them noticed still sound as aggressive and as relevant as when they first burst onto the scene. This is a band who have matured sonically as well as physically. They might not have blown up to the scale expected when they first emerged on the scene but based on powerhouse slots like this, and in a time when metal is firmly embracing indigenous influences across all sub-genres, their time is surely coming.

Whilst the support acts come from very different ends of the metal spectrum, they both make sense in the context of what is to follow. AVATAR are known for melding influences from across metal's gamut of subgenres into an eclectic, cohesive whole. New album Don't Go in the Forest might be their most accessible and most radio-friendly but it is still unmistakably Avatar, equal parts industrial stomp, heavy metal riffage, sing-along choruses and death metal brutality. The stage lights turn a disconcerting shade of blue and the band appear, with frontman Johannes hidden by a cloak and carrying a lantern, like a late arrival to the Traitors turret. Without further ado, the band lurch into Captain Goat, a devilish, slow motion sea shanty that sounds like the condemned souls of a Viking raiding party finally making it to shore. And then the gloves, and the cloak, are off and everything properly fires into life. 

Whilst this tour is showcasing the new album, Avatar have come loaded with some choice cuts from across their discography, which showcases the almost dizzying array of influences that have coalesced to produce the sound that they call their own. Setlist staple The Eagle has Landed elicits the first proper singalong of the night. The industrial march of Colossus is a menacing parade of staccato drumming, with all of the band at the front of stage, as if leading everyone in the room straight to Hell. Bloody Angel is a haunting, twisted lullaby with a hummable earworm riff that would not be out of place in a haunted playground in the dead of night. Central to the band's showmanship is the towering figure of frontman Johannes Eckerstrom, who controls proceedings like a demented ringmaster, prowling the stage balletically and often grinning manically. His black and white makeup, done like a sinister clown (is there another kind?) creates the impression of the bastard son of Eric Draven and Pennywise. Aside from the imposing stage getup, he demonstrates his vocal prowess, from the softer cleans of the piano-led Howling at the Waves to full bore growls for Silence in the Age of Apes, in itself a nailed-on death metal banger.

However, it's all very well having the theatricality and the evil carnival gimmick but you still need the style and musicianship to pull it off. Luckily, Avatar are blessed with that, and in spades. John Alfredsson is a gurning, wide-eyed lunatic on drums, with his elaborate fills and spidery patterns holding everything together. On guitars, Jonas Jarlsby and Tim Ohrstrom (the band's newest member, despite joining in 2011), match up perfectly, their leads and rhythmic riffs intertwining to sometimes haunting effect. They both even get time to unleash blistering solos that owe a considerable debt to old school heavy metal. Henrik Sandelin's bass underpins everything with an ominous chugging menace, his backing vocals complementing Johannes's delivery perfectly. They're a well-oiled unit, clearly well-versed in how to put on one hell of a show. The crowd are bonkers, virtually from the get-go. A man, for some reason dressed as a banana, crowdsurfs for every single song, at least in the first half of the set. The level of devotion, especially for a band who occupy a very particular niche, is profound. We're all having a wonderful time and the setlist is fantastic. We get a rousing rendition of The Dirt I'm Buried In, Johannes's falsetto almost drowned out by the extent of the crowd interaction. Smells Like a Freakshow marries the industrial clatter of Ministry with the melodic death metal riffing of In Flames. Let it Burn is a satanic waltz. Hail the Apocalypse, a plea for the end of everything, closes things out with an explosion of confetti and a rapturous reception. Avatar have given everyone an education in modern heavy metal. They're hard to pigeonhole, constantly adapting and continuing to merge styles and influences from metal's vast spectrum into something truly unique. As the crowd files out and the band take their bows, appropriately enough to Vera Lynn's wartime ballad We'll Meet Again, there's a feeling in the air of a job well done. Avatar have proven their worth, as if it was ever in doubt. They might be a band with a very specific schtick but they deserve to be massive. After 25 years of rampaging, genre-bending, carnival theatrics, surely it's time that they were filling arenas? We will, indeed, meet again. And a bloody good, off-kilter, zany time it will be. 

,Avatar Setlist

Captain Goat

Silence in the Age of Apes

The Eagle Has Landed

In the Airwaves

Bloody Angel

Death and Glitz

Blod

The Dirt I'm Buried In

Colossus

Torn Apart

Howling at the Waves

Glory to Our King

Legend of the King

Let It Burn

Tonight We Must Be Warriors

Don't Go in the Forest

Smells Like A Freakshow

Hail the Apocalypse

JINJER/Unprocessed/Textures; O2 Institute, Birmingham; 30/01/26

Birmingham will forever be a place of heavy metal pilgrimage. The indelible stamp left on the music scene by Messrs Osborne, Iommi, Butler and Ward will continue to attract those who lean towards the heavier way of things. For that reason, any metal gig in Birmingham always feels a little bit different, almost like those on stage are paying homage to those that helped their band to exist in the first place. With so many of the old guard winding down or, in too many cases, no longer with us, it's up to the next generation to keep the scene alive. The new guard might transcend genres and styles but the debt owed to the fathers of heavy metal is still the same. The same DNA is intertwined across the entire metal spectrum. Performing in the Second City can be a seen as a rite of passage. Which is why, on a cold, wet and windswept Friday night, a queue of punters is snaking down the street awaiting entry to an evening of progressive metalcore, headlined by Ukraine's finest export since Andriy Shevchenko and the brothers Klitschko.

The peculiarities of Birmingham gigs means that queuing to get in always seems to take a while. By the time the majority have shuffled in from the rain and made their way into this 1500 capacity former church and civic hall, they're just in time for the final couple of songs from TEXTURES. The Dutch sextet are rattling through some fairly by-the-numbers metalcore to an appreciative crowd which has swelled significantly since they emerged on stage. Following support act UNPROCESSED are an entirely different beast. Hailing from Germany, they've attracted a sizeable crowd, with no small number clearly familiar with their work, even before the opening notes are properly struck. Soon, fists, horns, and a number of pints, are in the air as they treat us to 40 minutes of well-executed technical metal that lands in the sweet spot between Deftones' spacious atmospherics and the riff-driven emotion of Killswitch Engage. It's an impressive performance and one that certainly wins them several converts and a rapturous send-off. 

By the time JINJER take to the stage, the room is packed. Tonight's show is not quite sold out, but you wouldn't know it. This is their first ever UK and EU headline tour, in support of last year's excellent Duel album. Such is the reputation that they've built and the strength of their live shows, they've not long come off a US tour supporting heavyweights Trivium. This tour is their chance to really flex their muscles and show that they belong at the top of bills and can thrive at this level. 

From the off, it's clear that they're not here to fuck about. No sooner have the band emerged onstage, all clad in black bar frontwoman Tatiana, whose white and peach combo adds contrast, the machine gun drums and razor sharp riff of the title and closing track from last year's album burst forth. The set will showcase most of the album but the band will also pluck choice cuts from their back catalogue throughout. The crowd are enraptured almost instantly as the opener is followed by another one-two punch from the same album. A particularly ferocious Fast Draw sees the evening's first crowd surfer hurtling towards the safe hands of the waiting security. It's obvious from the outset that a venue like this perfectly suits Jinjer as a live act. The small scale allows for the ebbs and flows of the music to wash over the crowd, like waves breaching a seawall in the heart of a storm. It also showcases the intricacies and technicalities of the instrumentation. Drummer Vlad, perched high above the rest of the band on his drum riser, hammers away with consummate precision, switching between skittering beats in the slower sections before battering away like a main possessed when required. Equally, bass player Eugene keeps the urgent, rampaging hum going, unleashing it with bowel-loosening intensity. On guitar, Roman makes use of the extra scales their sound requires to bring to life riffs that are both brilliant and brutal, highlighting an astonishing amount of dexterity and musical prowess. Tatiana's vocals are something to behold. The contrast between her guttural, almost malevolent roars, and the softer, almost angelic cleans holds the crowd in an almost hypnotic state. It's an incredible performance from a vocalist at the top of her game. The minimal amount of crowd interaction turns this into a thoroughly immersive experience, and she barely stops moving throughout the set, whether she's twisting seductively or whirling like a dervish. Enhancing the show are impressive, tesselating visuals on a screen behind the stage and a myriad of coloured lights. 

Jinjer's songs have never sounded so tight and their lyrics never more profound than they do on this night, when it feels like they finally have nothing to prove. A storming Disclosure! elicits the first singalong of the night. Kafka dials things down a notch and is all slow-burn, amidst an anxious sounding riff. Teacher, Teacher! is a jagged whirlwind of spite and rage. There are messages amongst these lyrics, deeply personal and profound, and conveyed in a way that really allows the songs to breathe. Someone's Daughter is a polemic about women throughout history and their struggle to make their own paths in a world that was historically made by men. It's a progressive metal, feminist battle cry that shines light on how, even in the widely accepting world of metal music, female artists and female led bands have often found themselves unfairly sidelined in favour of male contemporaries. Jinjer refuse to be pigeon-holed and routinely reject the label of 'female-fronted band'. The fact that this newer song sits so well alongside the older material is testament both to the strength of the songwriting and Jinjer's growth as a band. Judgement (& Punishment), from 2019's Macro, begins with a twanging bass riff before segueing into an almost ska-tinged number until the riffs come back with a vengeance. I Speak Astronomy, is a bludgeoning slice of in-your-face metalcore that not so much reads your horoscope as punts you into the Sun. Just when you think things are coming to a close, and a sublime Pisces has knocked everyone sideways with it's gentle intro into massive chorus, it's time for an absolutely caustic and vicious Sit Stay Roll Over. The band name flashes up on the screen, bathed in yellow and blue lights to reflect the Ukrainian national flag. And then it's over. 1500 punters stagger out into the Birmingham night, minds well and truly blown.

Jinjer have absolutely nailed this show. For a band that's had to battle so much adversity, not least the total invasion of their homeland and the ensuing war, this is a triumph. They truly are deserving of high praise, not least for their perseverance, but for the sheer strength to carry on and create metalcore for a new generation. Technically brilliant, vocally astonishing and with songs that not just back it up, but sound phenomenal live. In a recent interview, Tatiana herself revealed that she's a big believer in manifestation. Based on this, they won't be headlining venues this small for much longer. They'll certainly have manifested something even grander.

Jinjer Setlist

Duel

Green Serpent

Fast Draw

Vortex

Disclosure!

Tantrum

Teacher, Teacher!

Kafka

Judgement (& Punishment)

Hedonist

I Speak Astronomy

Perennial

Someone's Daughter

Rogue

Pisces

Sit Stay Roll Over

BIFFY CLYRO/Soft Play; Motorpoint Arena, Nottingham; 12/01/26

Biffy Clyro are one of those bands. You know the ones. The ones that divide opinion. They're either greeted with unbridled devotion by a loyal fanbase or, at best, mild indifference by those that don't get it. To say they're a cult band is probably pushing it but they're certainly a band who've risen from relative obscurity to the very top of arena and festival bills. It's not difficult to see why they generate such opposing viewpoints. Too proggy for some. Not heavy enough for others. Simultaneously accessible, with well-written songs and personal lyrics, but also confusing with often less than standard song structures. Make no mistake though, they can definitely draw a crowd. As part of the UK and European tour for recent album Futique, they've included a Nottingham date, the first in quite some time. There's a definite sense of anticipation in the air, despite it being a Monday night in the depths of winter. The uneducated, who maybe haven't witnessed their potency as a live force, will soon be enlightened in the ways of the Biff. 

They're not the only bad on the bill tonight though. Whilst we can't testify to the performance of The Armed, who are opening on this tour, the second support act are a different prospect entirely. Biffy have a habit of using relatively well-established bands as tour support, and it's no exception here. The strength of a support band is often measured by the sheer scale of the crowd. Whether out of curiosity or familiarity, SOFT PLAY have just about filled the place for their set of unadulterated modern punk vitriol. Completely failing to live up to their name, the Tunbridge Wells duo go hard from the off, rattling off spiky barbs of politically driven noise, alongside staccato drumming, rumbling guitar and characteristically shouty vocals. They're unashamedly and brilliantly woke, insisting on a female only moshpit for the 13 second barrage of Girl Fight, which they dutifully play twice. It's a raucous set with a reception to match and the pace barely lessens throughout, before a closing The Hunter clatters to an end and they're off, almost as soon as they arrived, or so it seems. As far as a warm-up for the main act goes, you could certainly ask for worse.

BIFFY CLYRO have been at this game for quite some time. Since they emerged in 1995, they've escaped the shadows of the underground and forced their way up to the highest echelons of the modern rock scene. Throughout, they've learned to adapt. From their early albums, which first introduced the janky rhythms and uneven time signatures that accompany their genuinely heartfelt lyrics, to the mainstream breakthrough of 2007's Puzzle, they've stuck to the formula, developed their style and built a fabulous reputation as an energetic and explosive live act. All of which brings us to the reason that we're here tonight. Recent album Futique is the Kilmarnock trio's tenth full-length. The title is a portmanteau of 'future' and 'antique' and designed to represent ideas across time. In general, it's a reassessment of the band's journey both to and from this point. Songs from the album will be scattered throughout the set, along with big hitters from across their discography, although the first three albums are not represented over the course of the night. 

  

Things begin as only a Biffy set can, with a white curtain draped over the stage as the opening bars of A Little Love kick proceedings off. The band appear in silhouette, before the curtain rises to reveal a stage set up of stairs and platforms. No time is wasted. The first song, from the new album, is barely over before it's followed by Hunting Season, another from the new record. Simon Neil's vocals are on-point throughout the set, equal parts anxious and yearning, and at some points urgent and almost feral. It's a testament to the strength of the songwriting that he pulls off each part with suitable aplomb. You can hear the evolution of the band as the older songs begin to appear. The call to arms of Wolves of Winter still sounds suitably ferocious. So too A Hunger in Your Haunt, which hums with urgency and desperation. Biffy attract an ardent devotion from their fans. Every word is sung by everyone in the building, in some cases rather beautifully as Simon himself remarks during one of the few periods of audience interaction. It's quite something when a crowd is even prepared to sing riffs as well as vocals. Anthems such as Mountains and That Golden Rule sound suitably massive. However, one of the band's biggest strengths has always been their ability to bring intimate moments to life in a way that makes them feel bigger and more grandiose. Tear-jerking new ballad Goodbye is as powerful an ode to lost love as you'll ever hear. Space has couples in the crowd embracing, with more than a few tears being shed. Machines, played by Simon alone onstage, still stands up as being one of the best songs they've ever written. There's something approaching a deep cut when Different People (from 2013's double album Opposites) gets an airing. The new songs fit in perfectly amongst the more familiar material. There's a nice moment of poignancy when Simon dedicates Friendshipping to absent bass player James Johnston, who has taken some time away to deal with issues surrounding his mental health. May he get the help he needs and return soon. 

Simon isn't alone in bringing these songs to life though. The rest of the band are fully immersed. Drummer Ben Johnston, James's twin brother, flits between thunderous rolls and subtle fills, all executed to perfection. He also issues a heartfelt thanks to the audience for the support and love sent towards himself and his sibling. Stand-in bass player Naomi McLeod is an excellent choice to cover for James and doesn't miss a note. The touring musicians, particularly the two violinists, carry out their respective roles impeccably. In and amongst it all, the stage production hangs everything together. Sparks fly, streamers go off and, throughout it all, a tightly coordinated light show bathes everything in shades of white, red and kaleidoscopic patterns. By the time the encore is in sight, everything is in wonderful, flawless flow. The stop-start intro to Living is a Problem...... is played in full before it explodes to life and threatens to take the building with it. Bubbles has the crowd in raptures. A cathartic, closing Many of Horror, now a certified set-ender, conjures one last massive singalong and an explosion of confetti from above, and banishes the memory of the literal horror of Matt Cardle's cover version. This, in essence, is what Biffy Clyro are about. Massive choruses, punchy riffs and deeply honest lyrics that run the whole gamut of human emotion. Seasoned fans are elated. First timers are converted. Love them or hate them, or not sure about them, there's very little denying that this is a band at the top of their game and very good at what they do. You don't get to 10 albums and get to headline festivals and arenas without some grasp of what you're doing. Biffy Clyro are what happens when the hard work pays off. Mon the Biff!

Biffy Clyro Setlist

A Little Love

Hunting Season

That Golden Rule

Who's Got a Match?

Shot One

Space

Wolves of Winter

Tiny Indoor Fireworks

Goodbye 

Friendshipping

Biblical

A Thousand and One

Different People

A Hunger in Your Haunt

Black Chandelier

Instant History

Mountains

Two People in Love

Machines

The Captain

Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies

Bubbles

Many of Horror

SABATON/The Legendary Orchestra; Motorpoint Arena, Nottingham; 06/12/25

Theatricality has been at the heart of rock and metal from its very beginnings. From Ozzy's bat-beheading antics, to Maiden's notoriously epic stage productions and from Alice Cooper's shock rock through to Creeper's vampire rock opera aesthetics, and Ice Nine Kills's horror movie indebted on-stage bloodbaths, the spectacle has become as much a part of live shows as the music. Over the past few years, few bands have honed their stagecraft to such lofty heights as Sabaton, putting them right up there with countrymen Amon Amarth for sheer visual wonder and intensity. Tonight sees the Falun boys bring their power metal war machine to Nottingham as part of the European tour to celebrate newest album Legends. We're promised many surprises along the way and, boy, are they about to deliver on that promise. Given that the UK leg of the tour only comprises three dates and Sabaton don't tend to hit these shores that often, it's a surprise that it's not quite sold out. Still, there's much to see before the main event, at least once we've negotiated the queue of people who seem to view lining up for merch as a marathon and not a sprint. 

Only a band with the gall, nay the gumption, nay the absolute balls, of Sabaton would pick an orchestra as a support act and, not only that, have said orchestra play an hour long set of Sabaton songs, to get the crowd in the mood. That, however, is exactly what we get from THE LEGENDARY ORCHESTRA. Formed especially for this tour by Sabaton bassist Per Sundstrom, they comprise a full orchestra, backed by a choir, and held together by soloists Mia Asano (violin) and Patty Gurdy (hurdy-gurdy). Conductor, operatic vocalist and Scardust frontwoman Noa Gruman presides over everything. It's a spectacular opening. A thunderous Ghost Division leads into a threatening and ethereal Bismarck and the crowd are hooked. Blistering solos abound and the backing choir, draped in robes, elevate the songs to new heights. There's a new dimension and depth to the songs and, for the next hour, we're treated to Sabaton performed in a way you'd never expect. The Unkillable Soldier is a particular rip-roaring highlight. Throughout, Noa's soaring vocals blend in perfectly with the backing troupe. The backdrop of a giant castle set, soundtracked by rampaging strings and propulsive double percussion, gives the feel of a Viking rave at a Traitors wrap party. To say the reception is rapturous is undercutting it. The final notes of Swedish Pagans ring silent and the orchestra bid their farewells to cacophonous applause. It's a perfect amuse bouche for what's to come. All (yes, all) metal bands should perform with an orchestra. It's an elevating and uplifting experience.

SABATON haven't made it 26 years into their careers without having a USP. In their case, power metal songs about military history puts them at a level of scope and ambition only really rivalled by Iron Maiden. Clearly, frontman Joakim Broden, and his bandmates, have been taking copious notes from Bruce and the boys. Sabaton shows are always a combination of metal show and history lesson and things here kick off with what comes across as an historical comedy show. Actors cosplaying as Napoleon, Genghis Khan, and Julius Caesar introduce the theme of the current album. Legends chronicles the exploits of famous leaders and commanders from across time. The three characters argue about their respective legacies before Caesar is murdered. So far, so slapstick and so Sabaton. Despite the serious nature of some of the events their songs cover, they can never be accused of taking themselves too seriously. The crowd obviously get the joke. Napoleon (whose accent seems to have been cribbed from reruns of 'Allo 'Allo) is booed every time he speaks. Eventually, the on-stage banter is interrupted by a member of the Knights Templar who, it must be said, does look like he's taken the evening off from guarding the Holy Grail, and then the band arrive, jumping straight into album opener Templars. A rambunctious The Last Stand follows, before our three stage characters return, this time one by one, to introduce the respective tracks about them from the new record. The stop-start nature of the opening to the set doesn't go down well with all of those present but the majority are thoroughly immersed. 

Such is the breadth of material at their disposal, it's not too difficult for Sabaton to throw together a set of bonafide bangers and that's exactly what the rest of the evening entails. The fact that they're able to do so without repeating any of the songs from the support set tells you all you need to know. The band are on imperious form, steered and commanded by Joakim. The stage show is something to behold. We're treated to mock cannons, sparks, explosions, gunfire that makes everyone collectively cack themselves during Stormtroopers, fire, drum solos, plenty of onstage banter, more fire, Joakim in the crowd, in a gas mask, shooting mock gas, during a particularly harrowing and menacing The Attack of the Dead Men, and, somehow, more fire. Indeed, the sheer volume of pyro would suggest that someone in Sabaton's crew has Parkway Drive on speed dial. The temperature of the room has risen several degrees before we're even halfway through. This is more than a metal gig. Throughout, there are periodic voiceovers detailing the horrors of war. Which in itself gets to the crux of the message behind Sabaton's songs. Behind every battle, every war, every skirmish and every leader, there are genuine human stories. The fact that Sabaton can bring these to life in such a way that the power of the songs doesn't diminish the impact of the tales they tell, is a testament to how hard they've worked on this vision. In and amongst the visual spectacle, they're still not done surprising us. The Legendary Choir, and Noa herself, return for the second half of the set, taking their place on the battlements of the castle, next to the drum riser, to lend yet more theatricality, in case that well was in danger of running dry. Positioned so as to look out across proceedings, they carry an air of harbingers of doom. Their presence enhances and envelopes, the perfect complement to Joakim's harsh, gritty vocals. 

It being December, we're even treated to a Christmas song. A mesmeric version of The Christmas Truce almost peels back the layers of time. Similarly, Night Witches is a thunderous summoning of death from above. The frenzied stomp of Primo Victoria tramples all before it. It's worth mentioning that pulling off a show of this scale and complexity would not be possible without the musicianship on display. Drummer Hannes van Dahl (AKA, Mr. Floor Jansen) is a whirlwind of limbs and precision. He might be the youngest member of the band but he attacks his kit like he's been here from the very beginning, leading to the obligatory mid-set drum solo. Chris Rorland and Thobbe Englund, with their Maiden-aping twin leads, are locked in like they're two heads of the same beast, whilst Per Sundstrom's basslines throb effortlessly underneath. Joakim runs around like a man possessed, his gruff delivery perfectly suiting the urgency and poignancy of the songs. In short, this is a band who have not only taken an idea and run with it, but dialled it up to the nth degree into an all-conquering, earth-scorching, tank-flattening metal machine. The whistle intro for To Hell and Back gets the biggest cheer of the night in a crowded field. Masters of the World brings things to a climax with a wall of fire and an explosion of confetti from the rafters. This is more than a job well done. This is a barnstorming, demolition job well done. When Maiden eventually call it a day, a sizable door will open for a band who can turn a gig into a spectacle and make every show an event in itself. Don't be surprised if Sabaton are knocking that door down.

Sabaton Setlist

Templars

The Last Stand

Hordes of Khan

I, Emperor

Crossing the Rubicon

Carolus Rex (Swedish version)

The Red Baron

Stormtroopers

Drum Solo

A Tiger Among Dragons

The Christmas Truce

Soldier of Heaven

The Attack of the Dead Men

Night Witches

Primo Victoria

Steel Commanders

The Art of War

To Hell and Back

Masters of the World

THE AMY WINEHOUSE BAND; Royal Concert Hall, Nottingham; 27/11/25

Legacy is a word that's mentioned a lot in music. It can be a loaded word. Every artist, every band, every musician, wants to be remembered. But how do you measure legacy? Legacy becomes the product of influence and impact. Across the music scene, across all genres, the legacy of artists shines through in the influence they have on the generations that come later, and through the music of those they inspire to follow in their footsteps. How then, do you honour the legacy of an artist who burned bright for too short a time? It's a question that no doubt a few people were considering in the run-up to the start of this performance. The original backing band of the late, great, and much missed Amy Winehouse have taken her back catalogue and run with it, recruiting a hand-picked vocalist to perform the songs, in hopes of not just honouring her memory but of keeping the songs alive and, one would hope, introduce them to a new generation. 

The venue for this endeavour is one that you would certainly imagine Amy herself would feel at home in. Nottingham's Royal Concert Hall, a 2200 capacity, fully seated, modern venue, adjacent to, and connected with, the Victorian Theatre Royal next door. This would be a celebration of Amy Winehouse's life, as much as it would be a retrospective of her career, played out in one of the most intimate venues that Nottingham has to offer. To up the ante, the band have recruited a full orchestra to fully bring the heartfelt and earnest songs to life. On paper, it looks set to be quite the experience. Such is the impact of Amy Winehouse on soul, jazz, funk, reggae and R&B, the audience is pleasingly diverse and we all settle into our seats in preparation of what is to come. The anticipation is heightened by a delay in the start time due to one of the performers running late, likely due to midweek football traffic. Soon though, the lights dim and the performers enter the stage in turn, orchestra first, before THE AMY WINEHOUSE BAND arrive, taking up their respective positions, and we await the arrival of the leading lady.

Singer Bronte Shande enters from stage right, dressed in a way that emulates Amy's inimitable style. Any nerves from the audience about what to expect soon evaporate. The opening notes of Tears Dry on Their Own kick in, and everyone is transfixed. It becomes clear, even early in the set, that the band have picked well with their choice of frontwoman. Rest assured, this is no attempt to replace Amy Winehouse. It's merely a vehicle to allow her songs to continue and her memory to thrive. The show takes the form of two 45 minute sets, with an interval, both focusing on the two studio albums, Frank and Back to Black, the latter turning 20 a few days after this show, that Amy released in her lifetime. Throughout, the emotional weight and heft that these songs still carry can be felt. Stronger than Me feels spiky and faintly menacing. You Know I'm No Good is a sultry 'I told you so'. October Song and Moody's Mood for Love, encapsulate the deep mood of heartbreak that permeates a lot of Amy's songs, so much so that you almost forget that the latter is a cover. 

Amongst the emotion of the songs themselves, the pressure to get them right feels huge. The weight of her role gets to Bronte at one point and, visibly emotional, she asks to start a song over and tearfully apologises to a sympathetic audience who, very moved by the outpouring of feeling, cheer her to the restart. It's easy to understand the difficulty of the task at hand. It's one thing singing the songs of one of the best and most influential songwriters of a generation but to do so live, backed by the very band of the singer in question, is something else entirely. For their part, the band are predictably excellent. They're clearly still enjoying bringing these songs to life, however painful and nostalgic it may be to do so. During an extended outro to the first set, we're introduced to each of the band in turn, with everybody getting their own solo. The horn section of Dave Temple, Frank Walden and Ben Edwards are locked in and clearly enjoying themselves. Their driving jazz rhythms add a propulsive backbone to the lyrics. On guitar and bass respectively, Hawi Gondwe and Dale Davis (who also acts as musical director), ooze effortless cool. Drummer Nathan Allen is the heartbeat of the rhythm section, his tight, well-drilled jazz drumming wrapping everything together. There's a touching moment where we're informed that he's just celebrated his 40th birthday, having been too young to even drink when he first joined the band. In short, this encapsulates the friendship and camaraderie of a group of musicians who have not only been doing this for a long time, but have weathered a considerable amount of heartbreak themselves. The star presence amongst the ensemble cast is backing singer Ade Omotayo. He's animated and amiable from the start. His impressive range perfectly balances against Bronte Shande's higher notes. He even takes the lead on a couple of songs, including a beautiful version of Amy's cover of Cupid, originally by Sam Cooke. Having the band backed by an orchestra only enhances the depth and diversity of the experience. Strings swell to accompany sax and trumpet. There are moments where you can hear a pin drop, particularly during the vocal pause at the close of Back to Black. There's even time to showcase the artists that Amy herself held dear. The extended instrumental that ends the opening set segues unexpectedly into the hook from Lauryn Hill's classic Doo Wop (That Thang). 

The real shining light, however, is Bronte Shande herself. Covering Amy Winehouse is no easy feat. Bronte shows that she is so much more than that. She embodies these songs and conveys the emotions in a way that only Amy herself would be able to. There are points where, if you closed your eyes and you didn't know better, you would swear that it was Amy up there, making the stage her own and unleashing her innermost demons. Bronte nails every note. The pain-inflected numbers, such as Love is a Losing Game become even more sorrowful. The antsier, more urgent songs such as Rehab are packed with trademark attitude and character. Make no mistake, these are not just songs about love and loss. They are fully-forged, tear-stained testimonies of heartache, rejection and struggle. For the more casual fans in the audience, the second set features more of the tried and tested bangers but that doesn't make their continued impact any less real. The band allow the audience onto their feet for the final few numbers, including a raucous, closing Valerie, (AKA, the song The Zutons wrote that means they'll never have to work again). A fantastic evening draws to a close with Dale Davis addressing the audience and clarifying the importance of ensuring that these songs continue to be performed. A hugely appreciative audience, barring one idiot (and there is always one idiot), hang on his every word. This isn't just a night for the fans. This is a night for Amy. Her tragically short life, with all its troubles, birthed something wonderful that will never be forgotten and can never be taken away. If Amy's legacy (that word again) could be summed up, it would be in nights like this. People coming together to celebrate a brilliant, troubled, but ultimately, a thoroughly genuine and heartfelt individual. If things had been different, there's no telling what stratospheric heights Amy would have reached. In the meantime, we'll always have these songs. They should be cherished. As far as The Amy Winehouse Band are concerned, they deserve this. 

The Amy Winehouse Band Setlist

Tears Dry on Their Own

October Song

Mr. Magic (Through the Smoke)

Stronger than Me

Moody's Mood for Love (James Moody cover)

Take the Box

Cupid (Sam Cooke cover)

He Can Only Hold Her

Band Introductions

Doo Wop (That Thang) (chorus only) (Lauryn Hill cover)

Love is a Losing Game

Back to Black

You Know I'm No Good

Me & Mr. Jones

Rehab

You're Wondering Now (Andy and Joey cover)

Monkey Man (Toots & The Maytals cover)

Valerie (The Zutons cover)

VOLBEAT/Bush/Witch Fever; Motorpoint Arena, Nottingham; 05/11/25

For some reason, Bonfire Night often seems to be a good night for a gig. Over the past few years, we've quite often swapped the fireworks and bonfire toffee of November 5th for a great big slab of live music instead. This year, it was the turn of Volbeat, who brought the opening night of the UK leg of their Greatest of All Tours Worldwide Tour to the East Midlands, following a successful scamper across Europe. Whilst Volbeat aren't a new live band for us per se, this would be the first time that we'd seen them at an indoor venue, having previously seen them at festivals. 

First things first though, is the matter of support acts. Manchester quartet WITCH FEVER kick proceedings off, to an admittedly modest crowd. After some initial sound issues where the bass is inaudible, everything is corrected by the second song and they're able to fully express the spectrum of their sound. The all-female band have just released their sophomore album, Fevereaten, which makes up the majority of the setlist. Vocalist Amy Walpole prowls the stage, unleashing feral, vitriolic, and deeply personal lyrics, whilst her compatriots conjure up riffs from the Sabbathian end of the fretboard. The combination of doomy low-end and heartfelt, punky spite is wrapped up in the bleeding heart of grunge. It's all carried off with great technical prowess and, for a band who are up-and-coming, their confidence and stage presence ensure that they will soon be getting used to stages of this size and bigger. By the end of the set, you can tell they've won a few new followers.

By contrast, post-grunge pioneers BUSH have made stages like this their home for well over 30 years. Frontman, and sole consistent member, Gavin Rossdale commands the stage, with face and voice seemingly unravaged by time, as they come hurtling out of the blocks with a selection of their choicest cuts. Opener Everything Zen gets diehards bouncing and there's barely any let up. There's even time for a spiky, edgy cover of The Beatles' Come Together, before a gorgeous, stripped back version of Swallowed, that sees Rossdale alone on stage, bathed in white light and backed by an ethereal choir. Despite his 60 years, he is much sprightlier than his age would suggest. Throughout, he's a ball of restless energy, pogoing on the spot, whirling around the stage and flailing his arms and even, during a rapturous, closing Flowers on a Grave, spending time amongst an endearing audience in what becomes the longest period of crowd interaction that he manages. Before long, everything clatters to a halt and it's over, before you even realise that they haven't played Glycerine or Machinehead. As Gav himself points out during a rare moment of introspection to the crowd, it's hard to know what to play. With a back catalogue as stacked with hits as Bush, you can afford to be picky, and it's a strange quirk of fate that they aren't as big in the UK as they arguably deserve to be.

VOLBEAT's unique blend of classic rock, heavy metal and rockabilly has steered them through 9 albums over 24 years, with their latest full-length God of Angels Trust, dropping a few months before the start of this tour. In the course of rising to this position, they've accumulated an ardent following, alongside a long list of certified bangers. Tonight's show will showcase the new album alongside classics from across their portfolio. There's an air of anticipation as the atmosphere builds to showtime. Whilst not entirely sold out, the arena is packed, with all eyes focused on the stage, where a large curtain obscures proceedings, emblazoned with an image of the band in silhouette. And then we're off. The Devil's Bleeding Crown swaggers out of the gate and kicks the doors in, as the curtain falls, and the hypnotic riff cavorts to expectant ears. It's almost complete pandemonium from the outset. It has to be said that Volbeat's hybrid of Satanic country and old school rock and roll can not only instigate rampant chaos, but also conjures up massive singalongs. Michael Poulsen is the consummate frontman, rugged and charming, and not afraid to get the crowd involved early on, inciting them into the chorus of Ring of Fire before leading directly into blatant Johnny Cash rip-off Sad Man's Tongue. Other such interactions compel moments of tenderness, such as For Evigt, which Michael dedicates to his wife and children, which is earnestly sung along by everyone in attendance, particularly impressive when you think that some of the lyrics are in the band's native Danish. Elsewhere, the frantic chug of Shotgun Blues and the ska-inflected Still Counting showcase the various influences the band have built upon. In a touching moment, the latter is performed with children from the crowd summoned to the stage, some of whom are certainly more enthused about the experience than others. 

The new tracks are a continuation of the theme, fitting nicely in amongst the more established songs. By a Monster's Hand builds to an ominous chorus, Demonic Depression comes equipped with a bucket load of groove and the deliberately long-windedly named, extreme metal baiting In the Barn of the Goat Giving Birth to Satan's Spawn in a Dying World of Doom is a straight up demonic, redneck lullaby. Make no doubt about it, Volbeat are very good at what they do. Whilst there's very little deviation from their tried and tested formula, there doesn't need to be. When there's this much swagger, rhythm and sheer joy, there seems no reason to fix what ain't broke. In the hands of less talented individuals, or with much worse songs, the concept could seem trite or ridiculous. Volbeat are neither. Even aside from Michael's charisma, the rest of the band are doing a very good job indeed. Touring guitarist Flemming Lund is a more than adequate replacement for the departed Rob Caggiano. Bucket hatted bass player Kaspar Larsen wouldn't look out of place at an Oasis gig, whilst namesake, but unrelated, drummer Jon Larsen gets to display his former death metal credentials throughout. Not only do Volbeat bring the noise, but they also bring the party. Anthems like Black Rose and Seal the Deal punctuate the back half of the set, before things come to a close on a thoroughly raucous A Warrior's Call, by which time the crowd have reached levels of catharsis that you'd be hard pressed to replicate. Whilst the niche nature of their style might not be to everyone's taste, the thousands in the arena have long been converted. Sing Hallelujah, the devil in disguise!

Volbeat Setlist

The Devil's Bleeding Crown

Lola Montez

Sad Man's Tongue

Demonic Depression

Fallen

Shotgun Blues

In the Barn of the Goat Giving Birth to Satan's Spawn in a Dying World of Doom

By a Monster's Hand

Heaven nor Hell

The Devil Rages On

Die to Live

Time Will Heal

Black Rose

Seal the Deal

For Evigt

Still Counting

A Warrior's Call/Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza