Words: Ben Williams

Nothing

Operating at the more direct end of shoegaze, Philadelphia’s Nothing revolves largely around Domenic Palermo. His on-stage persona is retiring. Head down, he studies his guitar almost as much as his effect’s pedals, something he has in common with his bandmates who are similarly indifference to ostentatious showmanship. Conversation is kept to a minimum too. We learn that Palermo doesn’t like the heat: “the sun sucks,” he says obliquely, but that’s about it. Nothing are simply content with creating foggy landscapes of distorted guitar the pass by meditatively, something that they do rather well.

End It

Given that End It recently became notorious for a mid-gig confrontation between the band and a man dressed as a banana, the enormous crowd they draw is expected. But those hoping to see another fruit-related incident were instead treated to the most faithful of hardcore bands. Indeed, the word “hardcore” is used so frequently during frontman Akil Godsey’s stage patter that it begins to sound like gibberish. It’s a volatile performance. During an opening monologue, which somehow namedrops both Jesus and Stalin, Godsey informs everyone to expect “25-27 minutes” of hardcore; and that is what happens. Everything about the performance feels dangerous, even down to the animated devils that hold the band’s projected logo behind them. It all feels rather more serious than it perhaps should be, but there’s a refreshing honesty with which End it pay tribute to the genre.

La Dispute

Jordan Dreyer is a natural storyteller. The La Dispute frontman’s charisma is tangible as he traverses songs from the Michigan band’s 2025 album ‘No One Was Driving The Car’, with highly conceptual and impressively complex song structures. What results is a performance that isn’t as confrontational as it is introspective, with the content of Dreyer’s lyrics forming the fundamental centrepiece for the performance. This is epitomised by ‘King Park’, a heartbreaking song from the band’s second album ‘Wildlife’ that is devastatingly visceral. And as Dreyer’s imagery comes to life, the bleakness of his lyrics are every bit as affecting as the musicality on display.

Snail Mail

Standing out as one of the festival’s stranger bookings, Snail Mail’s comparatively gentle indie rock is pleasant in the sunshine. Effectively a Lindsey Erin Jordan solo project, Baltimore’s Snail Mail does admittedly possess a fragile approach to lyricism that’s akin to the festival’s opening night of emo opulence. When performed live, her songs also evoke the sounds of slacker rock, which gives her guitar playing a groovier feel than on record. It cannot, however, be ignored that the paucity of festival-goers watching Snail Mail is due to an abundance of attendees watching Hatebreed at the smaller indoor stage, which is promptly closed to avoid over-crowding. It’s always pleasing to see something different on the lineup, but the scheduling of these two artists feels unfortunately misguided.

Trapped Under Ice

Trapped Under Ice’s three albums in almost 20 years sounds unproductive. Yet considering how busy the band are with their other projects (Angel Du$t, Cold Mega, Turnstile) it’s remarkable they’ve found any time to play at all. It’s a performance of merciless aggression. This is hardcore punk that is upfront and hostile; there’s as consistent a stream of stage divers as there’s been all weekend to prove it. Justice Tripp’s vocals are as gnarled as barbed wire. His growl roars from the speakers with a fierce intent. Occasional interruptions to this take place only in the form of the audience members who periodically acquire Tripp’s microphone. These vocals are a little less impressive but stand as a reminder that hardcore is egalitarian. Band and audience are at one, as proven by the lack of barrier between them.

Suicidal Tendencies

Mike Muir is the only original member of Suicidal Tendencies. He is at once a frontman, a hype man and the glue that keeps the legendary project alive. Known for creatively combining elements of punk and trash, the band now have a legacy to uphold, but solemnity is not in their wheelhouse. Instead, there’s something wonderfully silly about much of the performance. Muir’s rambling political addresses wouldn’t hold to scrutiny, but chants of “SC” and a David Byrne vocal style are enough to delight this weary Sunday crowd. The combination of “You Can’t Bring Me Down” and a head-banging Muir is a joyous sight. It isn’t the slickest of performances but it might be the most fun anyone has all weekend.

Basement

Basement are Outbreak regulars. They headlined in 2024, having played numerous times before then. It makes them a somewhat uninspired booking, but the fact they’re tried-and-tested helps them deliver a crowd-pleasing hour of alternative rock/emo. Having released their last album ‘WIRED’ earlier this year – their first in eight years – there is added impetus to the show. That said, it takes time for Basement to warm up. A string of new songs leaves everyone waiting for the jubilation brought by older songs like ‘Covet’ and ‘Spoiled’. There are many attendees sporting Basement T-shirts today, but the lack of a reaction to songs from ‘WIRED’ suggests that not all of their fans are here for Basement’s new music. Then again, to end Outbreak Festival 2026 – which celebrates its 15^th anniversary edition with one eye looking into the past – with a band who are veterans of the festival feels thoroughly apropos.

That five act structure – itself an interesting way of conceiving an album in the age of streaming – creates distinct thematic chunks, not only in Jordan Dreyer’s poetic lyricism, but in the music itself. The first act is primarily about dissociation and alienation, and the instrumentals mirror this sense of fragmentation and desperation.

Opening track ‘I Shaved My Head’ begins with stark drums and Dreyer’s vocals, fraught and emotional. It lingers like this until the track is given more shape by an overdriven bass, pushing into harsher frequencies that allow no space for comfort. By the time guitars begin floating over the top, the sound has already been clearly and forcefully defined by the bass and the vocals. La Dispute push this even further in the follow-up ‘Man with Hands and Ankles Bound’, which is frantic and urgent. By the time the first act starts to wrap up, the urgency is leaving but the harsh, angular music remains, playing under vocals that in their quieter moments are reminiscent of The Dismemberment Plan.

The second act is only one song long – although that song is almost nine minutes long and really comprises of three distinct sections. ‘Environmental Catastrophe Film’ is described by Dreyer as being the “thematic centre” of the album. It’s filled with childhood memories, though the mood is anti-nostalgic. The song starts quietly, melodic, building gradually over the first three minutes until it erupts and some of the urgency of the first act returns. It comes in waves. The anger washes over, and the final part of the song begins, quieter again, melancholic. And then a final wave crashes over the song’s final climax.

Act three is the longest, and perhaps the most conventional here. Five songs, opening with ‘Self-Portrait Backwards’, which outlines the theme of the album’s middle section. An exploration of key events in the unnamed protagonist’s past which he uses to attempt a form of self-recognition to break his own dissociation. Though, as with ‘The Field’, in which the narrator recalls staring fixedly into a pile of deer carcasses, this attempt to peer through his own mind still leaves the music troubled and troubling, alternating between soft melodies and guttural, driving moments of pure despair.

If the second act is the album’s thematic core, the fourth is the location of its “spiritual/metaphysical event”, in Dreyer’s words. Throughout the album, a motif of evangelical Christianity and the rapture has developed. In ‘Top – Sellers Banquet’, the rapture takes place. Another song that is over eight minutes long, it’s a mirror to ‘Environmental Catastrophe Film’. The rest of act four deals with a compounding sense of alienation and disintegration, the narrator left behind after the rapture.

The final act, which debuts with the album itself, opens on a softer note. Acoustic guitar and feedback evoking the sound of rain. ‘No One Was Driving the Car’ is the album’s titular song, inspired by a fatal self-driving car crash. The vocals are desperate, even as beautiful layers of guitars bathe them. Along with ‘End Times Sermon’, this is the album at its softest. A coda that leaves us to breathe and process the story that has unfolded in jagged pieces over the past hour.

‘No One Was Driving the Car’ is a monumental piece of musical storytelling that is absolutely rooted in the present day. It is more a series of vignettes than a collection of songs, with every track both distinct in its own structure and also completely in line with the album as a whole. The five act structure helps with this, allowing each part of the album to find its own voice and each subsequent part to be informed by what has come before.

WILL BRIGHT

Words: Kate Allvey and Rob Dand  //  Photos: Penny Bennett and Paul Lyme

Press Club

Melbourne’s Press Club are one of a handful of Australian bands at Trees this weekend, and their breezy indie-punk has an undercurrent of warmth that makes them perfect main stage material. They’re arriving at Upcote Farm at the tail end of a mammoth European run in support of album four, ‘To All The Ones That I Love’, but this is a classic festival set, drawing from all corners of their back catalogue over just seven songs. The new record’s title track translates particularly well, and a glorious few minutes of cloud cover during jubilant set closer ‘Suburbia’ managing to inspire a lung-busting singalong from pockets of the crowd. Frontwoman Natalie Foster leaps with enviable vitality across the stage monitors and down toward the barrier, a captivating presence at the spearhead of a band who have no doubt just won over a host of new fans, thousands of miles from home. [Rob Dand]

Blackgold 

Taking Slipknot’s lead, Blackgold’s masked rap-metal shakes the main stage awake. ‘One Chance’ channels Limp Bizkit with a more serious streak, acknowledging their nu metal lineage with an assertive update. The demand a lot from their fans but they give a lot back through spot on lyrics and feral bass that could tunnel through the hillside. Dropping in hip hop megamixes, they get those determined to brave the sun bouncing furiously. [Kate Allvey]

Hail the Sun

Hail the Sun are good friends with tonight’s co-headliners Coheed and Cambria, and you can hear it in their sound too. At times, the Californian quintet’s technical post-hardcore sound is so post it’s almost pre-something else, pairing notes of Circa Survive and At the Drive-In with their pals’ penchant for the theatrical. Vocalist and occasional drummer Donovan Melero operates primarily in the higher register, and he has some great mic-throwing moves that would give tonight’s other co-headliners Taking Back Sunday a run for their money, but his performance feels primal rather than choreographed. Their energetic set leans most heavily on latest full length, 2023’s ‘Divine Inner Tension’, but there’s also a partial cover of Tears for Fears’ ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ and an airing for new single ‘The Drooling Class’. Six albums into their career, it’s something of a surprise that Hail the Sun aren’t held in higher regard in the UK, but this memorable set in front of a curious (if not rapturous) Axiom crowd won’t have done their stock any harm at all. [Rob Dand]

Coilguns

Within the space of two songs, Coilguns frontman Louis Jucker has broken his microphone whilst on a foray into the crowd. His equipment is replaced, but the band also grapple with a temperamental guitar cable throughout the set. Jucker displays all the hallmarks of an eccentric and passionate character, sometimes appearing agitated by the delays, but he is always quick to smooth things over with the crew after each interruption. He repeatedly expresses his gratitude to the crowd simply for turning up, giving the mic over to the front row on more than one occasion to fill time, and unlike most other bands appearing in the Cave this weekend, demands very little from them in return.

The set itself feels gleefully loose; not quite erupting into full chaos, but entertainingly dynamic. Songs from last year’s excellent full-length ‘Odd Love’ dominate, and Jucker is keen to point out the meaning of the album’s title. He speaks about the importance of embracing our differences, and hammers the point home by warmly embracing as many people in the crowd as time will allow, before himself instigating the moshpit that accompanies their final song. All in a day’s work. [Rob Dand]

Frank Turner

Show number 3054 sees the spirit of 2000 Trees distilled into a worshipful Forest stage. Frank Turner’s been a staple of the Trees experience since its inception, but to hear his seminal ‘Live Ire and Song’ in its entirety, solo and acoustic, is something beyond special for Turner’s many fans. The power invested in every chord of ‘Better Man’ smoulders, and the goosebumps raising on our sunburnt shoulders during the title track feel more than real as we punch the air, each lyric a roared psalm. Re-presenting this album is a sublime, and one that means a huge amount to the FTHC faithful. We’ve been on a long journey with Turner and we’re proud to be here with him at his adopted home. [Kate Allvey]

Trashboat

Over on the main stage, Trashboat are keeping it heavy and current, switching between charismatic chorus and empassioned screams through ‘Be Someone’. Their new album is on their minds, and we’re delighted to hear Tobi Duncan’s “personal favourite” track, ‘Filthy Wretches’, in all its blazing ferocity. Paying tribute to the crowd sticking it out in the heat, ‘Shape’ clatters energetically, rewarding our patience. Trashboat strike such a great balance between grunge and heaviness, never succumbing to either, and making the main stage all their own. Self acceptance is their mantra and they preach it through gloriously original noise. [Kate Allvey]

La Dispute

Opening with spoken word poetry is a bold move, but La Dispute’s desolate post-hardcore charm resonates perfectly with the idyllic Forest Stage. Their descent into howls and delicacy on guitar sparks a gentle clap through the trees, ‘Environmental Catastrophe Film’ taut and absorbing. From among the many acts claiming a ‘hardcore’ root to their sound, La Dispute stand out as the most sensitive and intelligent, their songs flowing freely across planes of emotion, enigmatic and veiled behind murmured sentiment. [Kate Allvey]

Coheed and Cambria

With an intro as dreamy as the hillside view, Coheed and Cambria glide onstage. The keenest fans caught their mini-Forest stage set this morning, but the biggest stages are where we expect to see Coheed’s space operas presented in their fullest. ‘Goodbye Sunshine’, their recent single, is unveiled in all its power rock glory, sparkling as brightly as the iconic glittery Trees sign at the top of the hill, extended out for full vocal appreciation. It’s all about the classic rock guitar for Coheed tonight, and there’s something oddly inspiring about how their complex, prog-lite sound can unite everyone from girls in Eras Tour shirts and grandparents in bucket hats alike to rapt appreciation of Claudio Sanchez’s vision. The focus on ‘The Father of Make Believe’ cements their latest album as the last necessary brick in becoming the stadium rockers they were born to be. [Kate Allvey]

Million Dead

2025 has truly been the summer of reunions – but while Oasis and Black Sabbath made most of the headlines, tonight’s show heralds the unlikely return of Million Dead, catching the attention of post-hardcore fans in the Gloucestershire area at the very least. They didn’t so much break up as self-destruct, with the band going their separate ways back in September 2005. Now, twenty years later, and owing in no small part to frontman Frank Turner’s cult-like appeal in the strange bubble of this festival, they’re back for one more hurrah. Now a five-piece, featuring both Cameron Dean and Tom Fowler on guitar (who have never actually been in the band at the same time), they emerge to feverish applause, before launching into a slightly abridged version of ‘The Rise and Fall’.

With only two full length records to their name, Turner wryly acknowledges that the setlist is likely to feature most of the songs that people want to hear, and indeed the hour-long communion includes all the expected singles as well as some B-Sides, all now with fleshed-out instrumentation courtesy of the twin-guitar attack. It’s also great to hear the band confident enough in each other’s company to enjoy some self-deprecating humour. Turner makes a few tongue-in-cheek comments about how hard it is to replicate the vocal range he had in his youth after two decades, but aside from asking the crowd to step in to replace drummer Ben Dawson’s blood-curdling scream on ‘Pornography for Cowards’, everything is delivered faithfully. The chorus of ‘Living the Dream’ soars up into the roof of the tent and the closing salvo of ‘I Am the Party’ and ‘Smiling at Strangers on Trains’ predictably has fists in the air and all hell breaking loose down in the front.

After breaking up before they could ever grace 2000 Trees the first time around, they finally made this stage their rubicon. Welcome back, Million Dead. We missed you. I think you missed us, too. [Rob Dand]

Heriot

As the torturous tyranny of the sun subsides, it’s clear that despite today’s 33-degree heat, the real Hell on Earth scenario is now unfolding inside the Cave. Bathing the tent in a sinister red and orange glow, simulating the unholy ambience of last year’s debut full-length ‘Devoured by the Mouth of Hell’, Heriot cultivate an oppressive atmosphere of their own making – and they are in no mood for winding things down. Vocalist and guitarist Debbie Gough is in a particularly demanding mood. She shreds like a demon and continuously calls for more pit action like a woman possessed by another woman who is also possessed. Their twelve song set is practically relentless in its intensity, with only the brooding ‘Opaline’ offering much in the way of relative relief. As they pull down the curtain with a riot-inducing rendition of ‘At the Fortress Gate’, just three years after opening this same stage, the appreciation in the crowd is a reminder of how confident and sharp the band have become in such a short space of time. A triumphant and commanding headline slot. [Rob Dand]

Taking Back Sunday

Exhausted children are wheeled in wagons to the main arena as we stream in for the day’s dessert, chanting along as ‘A Decade Under The Influence’ punctuates our footsteps. Adam Lazzara flings his mic, posing elegantly, as ‘What’s It Feel Like To Be A Ghost?’ grips us, the post punk whirls of ’S’Old’ spiralling into the darkening sky like a promise. Their “love song, if you will”, ‘The One’ soars a rough edge to Lazzara’s voice before hopeful synths devastate in the slowed instrumental. ‘My Blue Heaven’ pulls together everything we hoped from their set as it moves magnetically through crashing riffs and raw emotion

Whether they’re offering up gigantic choruses to bind us together or keeping it tender and personal on ‘Amphetamine Smiles’, Taking Back Sunday offer us a mature and memorable finish to the day, full of heart and class, dealing out everything from lighters -up moments and fists punching the air to breakdowns for dance moves and pure emotional release. There can’t be any complaints about this one-off spectacular: “We hope all your dreams come true,” Lazzara wishes before ‘MakeDamnSure’ and he just might have fulfilled that before he even finished his sentence. [Kate Allvey]

Words: Kate Allvey and Rob Dand  //  Photos: Penny Bennett and Paul Lyme

Gen and the Degenerates

“Cool is dead, this is post-cool!” Gen declares, ironically as she’s presenting a very cool start to the day. With melodic shouting, choppy guitars, and an acknowledgment of how brave we are to deal with the direct sunlight, they light up lunchtime with their everyday charm. New song ‘When My Ex Pulls’ is a punky indie gem, and ‘Big Hit Single’ (with its “very sarcastic” lyrics) is understated danceable gold. Gen and the Degenerates are disarmingly normal, which makes their sherbet cyanide music that little bit more special. [Kate Allvey]

Hidden Mothers

Dragging the pile of smouldering ashes that once resembled a crowd into another scorching morning are Sheffield-based post-hardcore four-piece Hidden Mothers. The band’s music deftly balances thick, bruising riffs with lighter melodic sections, weaving together harsh growls and more delicate vocals that call to mind a combination of Tom Waits and Dustin Kensrue. Opener ‘Defanged’ comes out of the blocks pretty fast, sounding like the lighter end of Converge meeting the heavier end of Thrice head on. Their short set showcases many of the highlights from last year’s debut full-length ‘Erosion/Avulsion’. There’s time for a rumination on the escalating horrors of the outside world, and the galvanising community of festival living, before an ethereal ‘Haze’ brings things to a close. Keep an eye on this lot. [Rob Dand]

Love Rarely

Love Rarely have drawn a huge crowd over on the Neu stage. Whether those gathered in attendance are mathy indie-screamo fans or just exhausted shade-seekers is anyone’s guess, but if a helping hand from Mother Nature is what it takes to put this band in front of more people, that’s no bad thing. Appearing at Trees for the first time, the Leeds-based four-piece sparkle through a set that includes a high percentage of their recorded output to date, including recent single ‘Disappear’ alongside older rabble-rousers like ‘And You Know it’ and ‘Say Yes’. An engaging early afternoon showing from a band with heaps of promise. [Rob Dand]

Last Hounds

There are no airs and graces about Birmingham’s Last Hounds. Their street-level brand of punk possesses a snarl and a swagger that feels both exciting and familiar. Frank Carter-era Gallows is such an obvious point of reference that it feels almost pointless to commit this sentence to print, but here we are anyway. Tattooed shirtless vocalist Mike Skelcher demands a lot from the weary Day 3 crowd, but he seems ready to go to war for his ambitious dream of “making the tent wobble”. He does manage to incite several circle pits, and even a wall of death stretching to the second king pole. Viral single ‘Growing Pains’ and 2023 cut ‘Bubbles’ illicit particularly strong responses, but the band close the set with a rousing rendition of ‘Snakeskin’, complete with a late surprise. Inviting “his friend Jason” on stage, Skelcher is joined by letlive’s Jason Aalon Butler for the climactic final throes – a cameo appearance that, true to form, he goes all in on. [Rob Dand]

Bad Sign

Croydon-based riff merchants Bad Sign are playing their first show in seven years here today on the festival’s smallest stage. It’s a low-key billing for a reunion that hasn’t really attracted any fanfare, but it still feels like a lot of people have turned up for this band – many of them most likely having discovered their music during those wilderness years. Perhaps understandably after so much time away, the set feels a little like a course-correction. There are one or two brief moments where more technical passages and higher notes aren’t nailed with as much ease as perhaps they used to be – notably on the otherwise rip-roaring ‘Square One’ – but the good news is this isn’t a one-time deal. The band are properly back, and new music is on the way. [Rob Dand]

Catbite

Summertime and ska go together like gin and tonic, so Catbite’s snappy ska-punk attitude is perfect for the afternoon. Folk in fancy dress gather at the front of the stage for the costume contest, jamming out to ‘Tired Of Talk’, all while Brittany Luna’s wail ties it all together. ‘Scratch Me Up’, complete with claws in the air overflows with the classic bittersweet ska territory into ferocious sass with a hint of Madness. Catbite are the burst of totally different refreshment on the 2000 Trees bill that we didn’t know we needed, their easy going rocksteady sliding into ‘Call Your Bluff’s party riot.  [Kate Allvey]

Humour

Up the hill, Humour are making waves. Their intriguing blend of everything intelligent and heavy, from post punk contemplation through to full rage-infused howls. The Axiom stays seated to appreciate the chill they cast from their ever-changing narratives, their music a brief respite from the busy outside. Always interesting and ambitious with what they aim to show us: sharp crunching rhythm, fuzz and inspiration.  [Kate Allvey]

Vower

Emerging onstage beneath the rays of the merciless sun, not a pair of shorts between them, Vower launch into ‘Satellites’, with a riff so meaty it should come with a side of peppercorn sauce. The main stage sound is almost always good here, but this could be one of the best-sounding sets of the weekend. The guitars sound deliciously crisp, and Josh McKeown’s soaring vocals are colossal, showcasing just why he’s comfortably one of the best vocalists in this sphere. The band members’ individual talents would be nothing without a collection of good songs – but thankfully, Vower have the songwriting pedigree to match. With only one EP and a smattering of singles to their name so far, their all-too-brief half-hour slot comes to a close with the mighty ‘Eyes of a Nihilist’, and while there’s sadly no room on the setlist for incredible new single ‘Moth Becomes the Flame’ (released almost immediately after the festival), it’s clear that there is much more to come from this band – hopefully soon. [Rob Dand]

Split Chain

Bristol’s Split Chain have, by their own admission, not travelled far to get here. A short hop up the M5, in fact. One of many Deftones-esque bands on the bill weaving hazy shoegaze with 2000s alt-rock, and adding a dash of hardcore, Split Chain are clearly happy to be here and similarly delighted with the size of the crowd they’ve managed to attract. Understandably, they lean heavily on material from their just-released debut full length, ‘motionblur’, opening things up with ‘Under The Wire’ and bringing down the curtain with ‘I’m Not Dying To Be Here’, the single that launched this new era back in January. Having opened up the much smaller Neu stage here last year, this mid-afternoon slot feels like a big (two-) step up, but the packed tent suggests they already have the following to give them a shot even higher up the bill in future years. [Rob Dand]

Future of the Left

Hollered drama and waterfalls of outsider guitar? Yes please. Every lyric from Falco feels like an intoned threat as we camp on the baked floor, before ‘Miner’s Gruel’ slams like a manifesto, pierced with visceral screams. The welsh act forsake genre definitions for blistering authenticity propelled by rocket-engine bass and a desire to blast out what’s on their mind. Even though we’re wilting, their force of will compels us to our feet.  [Kate Allvey]

Girlband! 

Nottingham’s Girlband! have the Neu tent more than packed out as we spill into the sunshine to chant along to the Neo-grunge sincerity- probably the busiest the side stage has been all weekend, in fact. ‘21st Century Suffragette’ and the dance moves it inspires proves that Girlband are getting stronger with every show. Catchy choruses and huge scale old school guitar solos prevail in their Trees debut, and ‘Talk Me Down’ is the best punk song Fleetwood Mac never wrote.  [Kate Allvey]

Vukovi

We’ve long suspected Vukovi might be cyborgs sent from the future to spread ethereal, vicious metal, but today seems to sadly disprove that theory. Janine Shilstone bounces in shining silver, starting a joyous pit, then can barely contain her giggles as a crowdsurfing fan in a huge disintegrating fridge costume crosses her path. She pops on a pair of comfortable crocs (“the floor is like fucking lava”) showing that she’s as human as the rest of us, but her glorious electronic tinged sound, choc full of vengeance and power like ‘Creep Heat’ are a hard reset to reinvigorate our energy.  [Kate Allvey]

Birds in Row

Eschewing the traditional stage lighting set up, as they frequently do, Birds in Row are illuminated predominantly from behind, with only sparse accents of colour allowed to escape from the bulbs overhead. This is the atmospheric backdrop against which the French post-hardcore three-piece emerge, as the stabbing intro of ‘Water Wings’ gets things off to a frenetic start. Much of the material in today’s set list is drawn from 2022 record ‘Gris Klein’, and most of it is fast and bleak, but the groove of ‘Noah’ and the slow build of ’15-38’, taken from 2018’s equally brilliant ‘We Already Lost The World’, does offer some variety. Despite the melancholic aesthetic, the band’s final message is one of hope, and there’s a promise of new music to come. We can’t wait. [Rob Dand]

The Hara

Without all their usual stage dressing to distract us, we’re forced to appreciate how much the Hara are one hell of a rock band. Within seconds of opening they’ve started a pit in the middle of the Forest stage. Of course, their electronica lingers but they’re absolutely focused today on the rock half of their sound: ‘Fire’ slams under its own merit without the distraction of visuals, the pounding riffs enough to impress. Frontman Josh Taylor struts and launches into the air, swimming and posing as he’s carried aloft, climbs the stage and rules the entire space, his emotions on ‘Trophy’ casting twilight through the trees.  [Kate Allvey]

La Dispute

After yesterday’s special set in the forest, La Dispute have ascended almost to the summit of the Axiom lineup, and right from the get-go it’s clear this is going to be a very different proposition. There’s not a poetry book in sight, and very few people are dressed like sick Victorian children, for one thing. Launching into ‘I See Everything’, the Michigan natives focus on some of their more up-tempo material, include early performances of ‘For Mayor in Splitsville’ and ‘Hudsonville MI 1956’. Only ‘Woman (in mirror)’ and ‘Andria’ are repeated, bookending a mid-set trio of new songs from forthcoming fifth album ‘No One Was Driving the Car’, their first full-length since 2019.

Towards the end of the set, vocalist Jordan Dreyer slows things down to give an almost identical speech to the one he gave among the branches and roots yesterday; but although the message is the same, the variations in his phrasing highlight a from-the-heart authenticity. He speaks in broad terms about the situation in Palestine and in Ukraine, as well as the struggles faced by those subject to prejudice, and it’s clear that he means every word. A born orator, Dreyer uses his platform to very respectfully hold the tent’s attention while he talks earnestly about some of the modern world’s most sobering issues, and the power of community in the face of hopelessness. There’s an airing for the rarely-played ‘Why it Scares Me’, taken from their 2010 split with Touché Amoré, before ‘King Park’ wraps things up with a now-predictable finale that has somehow lost none of its goosebump-inducing impact, despite being the band’s signature song. [Rob Dand]

letlive.

There’s a buzz in the air in anticipation of the return of letlive – and it’s not just the army of furious wasps that have bullied festival attendees for the past three days.

The band initially called it quits under something of a cloud in 2017, so tonight’s show promises to be part of a proper farewell. They arrive with a fearsome live reputation, constructed primarily around vocalist Jason Aalon Butler’s wild antics. To everyone’s delight, tonight’s show is no different. After only a few minutes, Butler’s crowdsurfed, dragged various monitors and the drum riser halfway across the stage, poured three bottles of water over himself and thrown one at his drummer, and somehow found time to sing a few songs. ‘Le Prologue’ kicks things off, before ‘The Sick, Sick 6.8 Billion’ and ‘Renegade 86’ continue down a path with foundations built from standout 2010 album ‘Fake History’.

Beneath the theatrics and seemingly boundless energy, connection to his audience is clearly a priority for Butler, but entertainment is never far from his mind either. He gives weighty personal context to ‘Muther’, before literally dragging someone dressed as an amp onstage to join the fun. His commitment to the bit is admirable, and he carries this enthusiasm into another interaction, bringing a fan onstage to enjoy the experience from a unique perspective.

The talking point of their incendiary set arguably comes right at the end, after Butler has relieved himself of most of his clothing and starts to haul his sweat-drenched body up the metallic shell of the stage. He manages to reach the lighting rig and continues set closer ’27 Club’ from here, with the crowd watching on in equal parts awe and horror. Only those at the front can hear the climactic breakdown, though, owing to the fact that the decision has been taken to cut the sound – save for the on-stage monitors. It’s a truly memorable bookend to a set that achieves everything it set out to do. Welcome back, letlive, and so long. [Rob Dand]

Calva Louise

They might be in the smallest stage, but Calva Louise can’t be ignored. ‘W.T.F.’ makes for a clashing opener, their small but very determined fan base loving every second. ‘Third Class Citizen’ emerges strong, sophisticated piano underlining throat-shredding screaming. The scale of their ambition and what the multi-instrumentalists create is what draws in more and more intrigued future fans, and of course the combination of haunting vocals and crunching riffs to get heads banging don’t hurt either.  [Kate Allvey]

Black Foxxes

Black Foxxes have played at Trees before, but not quite like this. It’s possible that a fair few in the crowd haven’t seen the band for some time, and those people are about to have their expectations ripped apart and put back together in front of them. At this point in their trajectory, it’s best to just accept that the band standing before us are not about to tear through any of their punchy early cuts like ‘Husk’ or ‘I’m Not Well’. Instead, what they choose to do with their 50-minute headline set on the Neu stage is take their time with just five songs, four of which aren’t on their newest record and one of which (closer ‘The Diving Bell’) is twice as long as the album version, courtesy of an extended jam that hangs in the air like butterflies dancing precariously at grill-height over the M5. It’s a delightfully contrary performance, and while it’s a shame that we might never hear some of those big, spiky rock songs again, there is pleasure to be found in watching Mark Holley’s journey of discovery play out. It’s an assured set from a unique band, who only write and play the music that feels interesting to them at the time. Long may they continue to do so. [Rob Dand]

As December Falls

The viciously independent alt-rockers draw everyone from children in dinosaur headphones to rave teletubbies, and as Bethany Hunter bounces across the stage to deliver modern Paramore vibes, we know we’ve made the right choice about who to watch. ‘Ride’ uplifts before ‘Angry Cry’ assertively smacks backs with throbbing bass and a giant chorus. We answer the call to ‘split the forest in two’, we sing our lungs out to ‘I Don’t Feel Like Feeling Great’ and we love every minutes of the band who won us over on the main stage last year with their melodic, unapologetic  tales of survival. ‘Ready Set Go’ hints at a direction with even more bite, with tense drops and drum thrills, and were treated to ‘Everything’s On Fire But I Feel Fine’- the title track of their upcoming album- which gets a live debut scorching enough to send a tiny girl dressed as a fairy crowdsurfing.  [Kate Allvey]

Alexisonfire

Walking out to the epic string crescendo of the ‘Last of the Mohicans’ main theme, as they generally do, Alexisonfire appear ready for a fight. Guitarist Wade MacNeil is literally sporting chainmail, and vocalist George Pettit looks the swelling crowd square in the eyes during the first chords of opener ‘Accidents’: “When this over, I want to see significantly less trees”, he snarls in reference to the festival’s name, and probably only partially joking.

Right from the very first opportunity for crowd participation, though, during the bridge of that first song, it’s abundantly clear that Alexis already have the crowd on their side. A band who head booker James Scarlett has very publically had on “the list” for several years, they already know what this festival means to the UK music scene, and they aren’t about to half-ass their headline slot with lazy nostalgia. Yes, ‘Accidents’ bleeds into the equally well-received ‘Boiled Frogs’, keeping the momentum going, but what’s really exciting is that the band have the balls to work some of their newer material into their set. ‘Sans Soleil’ comes next; a magical moment as MacNeil’s guitar line shimmers out over the heads of the crowd and up the hill toward the setting sun, its tyrannical grip finally loosening in the glowing evening sky.

There are a few fairly surprising omissions (some of them agonisingly cropping up elsewhere on their short run of dates either side of Trees), but otherwise the next hour and a half is a very confidently delivered collection of hits alongside slow-burns like ‘Rough Hands’. It’s a set befitting of main stage headliners who have always excelled at finding balance – light vs dark, humour vs gravitas, Dallas Green’s captivating cleans vs MacNeil’s signature rasp and Pettit’s feral scream, Charlie Sheen vs Henry Rollins. They always were head and chainmail-covered shoulders above most of the bands who tried to emulate their sound (and boy, were there a lot of those for a while back there).

As regular closer ‘Happiness by the Kilowatt’ slides out into the atmosphere, there are no fireworks. No confetti cannons. No pyro. Just the warm satisfaction of having watched five unapologetically individual characters turn in a memorable set that only they could have produced. [Rob Dand]

Words: Kate Allvey, Rob Dand Photos: Penny Bennett, Abbi Draper-Scott

As Everything Unfolds

Kicking things off on the GoPro stage, the festival’s loose home for its delegation of heavier bands, As Everything Unfolds ushers in the first mosh pit of the day before the end of set opener ‘Slow Down’. The band proceeds to rattle through highlights from their two full-lengths, peaking at just the right time with the now-familiar closing duo of ‘Felt Like Home’ and ‘On the Inside’. The one slight dull edge on an otherwise razor sharp performance comes when niggling technical issues resulting in the sole guitar intermittently cutting out, illuminating just how much heavy lifting the backing track is doing. Nevertheless, the energy is there in abundance and vocalist Charlie Rolfe in particular turns in a strong showing. Slam Dunk 2024 is officially off and running. [RD]

The Dangerous Summer

The Slam Dunk stage openers dish out heartbreaking optimism with the heart of Ataris, offering a furtive start to our day with a bass heavy punch of Americana and emo. The spirit of Brian Fallon watches over their dashes of guitar and ‘The Permanent Rain’ smoulders like dying, thoughtful embers, at odds with the congenial atmosphere surrounding their set. If they were playing at 2am, or sharing a slot with The Wonder Years, The Dangerous Summer would be sublime; as a first act, they’re still really damn impressive. [KA]

Honey Revenge

The first IYKYK band, judging by the crowd running in as soon as they spot the hot pink co-ords onstage, Honey Revenge announce their presence with a gawky wave. ‘Seeing Negative’ makes for a subversive bubblegum eighties start with sonic bass, and vocalist Devin Papadol is overjoyed to be here. “Welcome to our first ever festival set, baby,” she squeals like a Barbie customised with koolaid and safety pins. Brand new song ‘Recipe For Disaster’ swerves past self-loathing and into hit status, and ‘Are You Impressed?’ swings wildly between adorable chiming, frustration and rocket launch bass. ‘Airhead’ ends their set on a high, eliciting eager and unironic horn signs as they stride offstage. [KA]

As December Falls

As December Falls are in a celebratory mood, marking their first main stage billing at Slam Dunk with an effervescent set spanning much of their discography to date, including several cuts from last year’s top 20 album ‘Join the Club’. Opening with old favourite ‘Ride’ and closing with the exuberant ‘Carousel’, the band attack every opportunity with their infectious enthusiasm, and today’s sun-soaked fiesta will likely win over some new converts. [RD]

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Third on the lineup but first in our scarred emo hearts, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus open with ‘Brace Yourself’ and its gorgeous payoff after the intro. They endlessly twist between loud and soft to intensify the impact of each lyric, and ‘False Pretence’ draws a static but observant crowd to appreciate Ronnie Winters’ vocal gymnastics amid the song’s live hardcore ferocity. ‘Damn Regret’ seems to move in slow motion as we’re finally ready to jump, and dropping in a cover of Blink 182’s ‘All The Small Things’ is an easy win to create a positive energy across the field, drawing in those otherwise distracted to appreciate the joy radiating from their set. [KA]

Head Automatica

The surprise return of Daryl Palumbo’s Head Automatica to the UK festival circuit was one of the more eyebrow-raising points of note on the Slam Dunk roster. We’re ostensibly gathered to mark 20 years since the release of debut album ‘Decadance’, a flamboyant maelstrom of post-hardcore, soul and danceable indie rock. Unfortunately, some early technical issues derail disappointingly loose renditions of ‘At the Speed of a Yellow Bullet’ and ‘Brooklyn is Burning’, and while the band persist to find something resembling their stride as the set progresses, Palumbo’s delivery seems loose; almost pained at times. Despite this, Slam Dunk most definitely came to dance, and while the Hatfield crowd becomes the first to hear new song ‘Bear the Cross’ in a live setting, it’s the older material – and most notably set closer ‘Beating Hearts Baby’ – that predictably gets the most raucous reception. It’s not quite the vibrant canvas it was supposed to be, but the smiling faces and questionable dance moves suggest that plenty of people used their imagination to paint by numbers and fill in the blanks. [RD]

One Step Closer

One Step Closer draw a modest but committed crowd over on the Key Club stage. It’s possible that they fly just below the radar of a typical Slam Dunk attendee, which is a shame, because their brand of melodic hardcore is consistently enjoyable and very accessible. Their sound is evocative of early 2010’s Deathwish/Bridge Nine favourites, with newer songs like ‘Giant’s Despair’ adding a touch of the alt-rock flavour brought by bands like Basement and Balance And Composure. Their set focuses on material from recent record ‘All You Embrace’, and their impassioned performance is another fine showing for a band that are slowly winning over UK crowds. [RD]

RØRY

Opening with a predatory electro pulse as we stampede towards the front, RORY has tapped into a shared waterfall of emotion with her music, and the world outside the tented Kerrang stage seems to shrink away during ‘Anti-Repressant’. More than a few in the crowd tear up for ‘Alternative’, and security drop their professionalism and start to film the vocalist as she lays her pain out for us to find strength in. That’s not to say that this is a po-faced set by any means; she serenades a guest dressed as baby in the character of her ex-boyfriend during ‘Baby Vendetta’, and new song ‘Blossom’ lets electro synths water the seeds of rage and triumph under the shade of Evanescence at their most pop. This is RORY’s first festival set, and it definitely will not be her last. [KA]

The Skints

The Skints have “done a lot of Slam Dunks,” as guitarist Josh Rudge explains, and only seem to be cementing their reputation as mainstays in the punk section of the lineup. ‘Mindless’ is a soft opener, but it’s ‘Rise Up’ that attracts curious onlookers with its rapid fire echoes and seismic bass drops. ‘Ratatat’ is the song that makes this sunny corner feel like how you’d expect a festival to feel. “If you know what a ‘capdown’ is, and what it means to your heart,” calls Rudge in reference to the defunct iconic British ska punk outfit before launching into a blistering cover of ‘Ska Wars’, leaving us with a sense that the Skints are the strongest torch bearers of the UK ska punk revolution. [KA]

The Blackout

The boys from South Wales draw a huge crowd, probably the largest outside of the headliners. ‘Save Our Selves’ (The Warning)’ is thrown into the deep waters of heavy rock and swims, not sinks, directed by Sean Smith and his magnificent mullet with help from guest Charlie Rolfe of As Everything Unfolds. ‘Top Of The World’ comes across far cuter live, like a little burst of Blink-ish optimism in the sunlight, and the racing clap-along for ‘Said And Done’ starts a huge pit. It’s the fifteenth anniversary of the Blackout’s ‘Best In Town’ album, and we’re gently chided for singing happy birthday to the band instead of the record. ‘We’re Going To Hell…So Bring The Sunblock’ (“Our attempt to be metal,” according to Smith) fills the field by the Go Pro stage with candy floss fronds of friendship and there’s a tangible, warm bond between us, the band and all the others on the lineup with whom they seem genuinely thankful to be friends. [KA]

Mallory Knox

It’s been five years away from Slam Dunk for Mallory Knox, and seven for returning vocalist Mikey Chapman, who left a little before the band originally called it time. There’s a slightly awkward dynamic onstage as Chapman references his extended break (“Whose fucking fault was that?” asks bassist Sam Douglas  – the man who stepped into Chapman’s shoes for their final self-titled effort – with most of his tongue in cheek, if not all). But from the moment ‘Beggars’ twinkles into life until the final defiant chorus of ‘Lighthouse’, their hard-edged pop-rock soars over the Hatfield crowd and marks a triumphant return. [RD]

Against the Current

Somehow, Against the Current have never performed at Slam Dunk, despite slotting perfectly into the lineup. Newly independent, and with a slew of recent singles just aching to be launched out into a festival crowd, they do not waste the opportunity that their debut appearance brings. We’re treated to an enthusiastic rendition of ‘Running with the Wild Things’, and older cut ‘Gravity’, but for the most part the band are focusing on their newest material, with vocalist Chrissy Costanza covering every inch of the stage in her efforts to connect with the large crowd that has gathered. Their first Slam Dunk, but undoubtedly not their last. [RD]

The Ghost Inside

Legend has it that it never rains on Slam Dunk South, but if any band could cause the clouds to open, it’s the heaviest band on the earliest part of the bill: The Ghost Inside. Live, ‘Mercy’ is dark, sludgy and somewhat polarising (with many retreating to the sunnier climes of The Selector’s set), but with a hidden complexity which tunnels through the compacted grass and up into our spines. ‘Pressure Point’ is fuelled by a violent purity and ‘Wash Away’ evokes less a domestic task and more a weather warning as unexpected keyboard lines contour up nu-metal memories. Disruptive drumbeats and ironic raving from the crowd make this a set of epic proportions. [KA]

La Dispute

La Dispute came crashing out of the blocks over a decade ago with a gloriously brash debut, before crafting a more reflective sound on their genre-defining follow-up. Today’s set largely sidesteps these two towering behemoths of the scene, however, and leans most heavily on material from third album ‘Rooms of the House’, now celebrating its 10th anniversary. In truth, some of the more introspective numbers are hampered by the positioning of the Key Club stage, and anyone further than 30 feet from the monitor is treated to a jarring mash-up of State Champs and the Bouncing Souls drifting in from either side. Regardless, set closer ‘King Park’ snakes in like muscle memory for virtually everyone in attendance, twisting through its breathless build toward its heartbreaking conclusion. The sound of a few hundred people screaming “Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?” may not seem like an obvious mid-afternoon festival highlight, but ‘King Park’ is both some of their strongest material and a high-watermark for the entire genre, and worth sticking around for. [RD]

Asking Alexandria

Eschewing a buildup or lead-in, Asking Alexandria appear as a sudden lightning slam of brutal guitar that dissolves into 8-Bit keyboard. In the pit, a man dressed as a mime climbs onto his friends’ shoulders and films, the only spot of colour against the black backdrop and equally funereal band. Asking Alexandria keep their sound sharp and harsh, leaping between steely cold roaring guitars and vocal ripples. Vocalist Danny Worship folds one arm behind his back like he’s delivering a lecture before passing the metaphorical baton to guitarist Cameron Liddell for a solo that dispels any lingering loneliness. Most of the crowd are flagging in the heat as we draw on the same core of molten lava that the band do and push ourselves to even higher jumps. The clouds finally part during ‘Dark Void’, such is the power of Asking Alexandria. [KA]

Pennywise

A lot of bands have joked about being old over the course of the day but ironically, as one of the oldest bands on the bill, Pennywise show they’re still a force to be reckoned with. ‘My Own Country’ slams harder than it has any right to while still maintaining the strutting nineties rhythm popularised by the Hellcat stable. Pennywise’s sideways slide into full on street punk is working for them, with their coarser sound fitting in with who they’ve become. Of course, there’s a bit of silliness in the form of covering Men At Work’s ‘Land Down Under’, but we can forgive their missteps when ‘Fuck Authority’ is still as fury-filled and urgent as ever and ‘Bro Hymn’ inspires those with mohawk to full-throated song. [KA]

Funeral for a Friend

Atop the Hatfield site’s only hill, Funeral for a Friend take to the stage along with guest vocalist Lucas Woodland. One arm held aloft, a familiar sight for Holding Absence fans, he stands ready to conduct the gathered crowd. As if there was ever any doubt, Slam Dunk is about to witness one of those special performances that will be talked about for years to come. Uniquely positioned to do justice to Matt Davies-Kreye’s impressive legacy, with both the talent and humility in spades, Woodland confesses to his admiration for the band, having grown up in their shadow as part of the vibrant South Wales scene of the time. Energised by his obvious deep connection with the source material, the band deliver an absolute masterclass, seeming as fired-up as they have in many a year.

The crowd mirror this exuberance, singing back every word to a hit-filled set that reminds us just how important this band was in shaping the British response to the largely US-dominated post-hardcore scene at the turn of the millennium. Bathed in the glorious golden hour light of the early evening, this is Funeral for a Friend viewed through Instagram’s Valencia filter – warm and familiar. They’ve played Slam Dunk before, but this is something else entirely. It’s an absolute triumph and quite possibly the standout set of the festival. [RD]

Goldfinger

John Feldman has returned to these shores, briefly removing his mantle of pop punk mogul to revert to his original incarnation as Goldfinger’s frontman as the sun begins to set over Slam Dunk. A lot of the older ska acts really can still pull it out the bag when it comes to an energetic show, and Goldfinger are no exception. Vocally, Feldy can’t seem hit the heights he was able to back in the nineties, but in the midst of the angst and emotional outpouring across the Slam Dunk site, Goldfinger provide an oasis where we’re having fun, counting the days and dancing like we’re still kids. With an incredibly strong fanbase willing to overlook the weaker parts of their set, ’99 Red Balloons’ can’t fail to hit the mark, especially when it’s backed by Reel Big Fish’s brass section. [KA]

The Wonder Years

If there’s one thing that’s abundantly clear, it’s that despite some logistical challenges in recent years that have led to a lot of soul-searching, Slam Dunk is still held in incredibly high regard by many of the artists. None more so than the Wonder Years, who recall a time in 2010 when their career trajectory changed – something they attribute to their performance here. Ever since, they’ve answered the call in return, even pulling a double shift in 2022 when a last-minute slot on the lineup became available.

They may only be playing the smallest stage at the festival tonight, but they wear their Key Club headline slot like a badge of honour, in solidarity with the bands lower down the bill who embody the old-school approach to carving out a career in the music industry. Opening with the quickfire double of ‘I Don’t Like Who I Was Then’ and ‘Low Tide’, the band take us on a journey through their discography, spanning from old favourite ‘Washington Square Park’ to newest track ‘Year of the Vulture’ – which is played for the first time live here tonight, and gets the appropriately feverish response it deserves from the pit.

The set ends in familiar fashion, with a buoyant performance of fan favourite ‘Came Out Swinging’. More familiar still is the way in which vocalist Dan Campbell has no qualms in stopping his bandmates mid-flow and cutting the song short by a few seconds in order to allow an audience member to receive medical treatment – just as he did here two years ago. The Wonder Years love Slam Dunk, and Slam Dunk loves The Wonder Years. [RD]

You Me At Six

The big ticket item for most of the Slam Dunk crowd has to be the final festival appearance of You Me At Six before the band split next year. Some are taking it poorly (the main banner featuring vocalist Josh Franceschi becomes steadily covered in graffiti as the day goes on), but for many, this is an emotional moment. ‘Save It For The Bedroom’ and ‘Reckless’ are a safe start to their set, but it’s ‘We Are Believers’ which begins the cascading tears and chest-clutching from the audience before the sweetness and forceful vocal downstrokes within ‘Kiss And Tell’ cause the sentiment we feel to be transformed into the urge to dance.

It takes a good twenty minutes for the band to hit their stride and bring out the harder songs, but when they do, we revel in their command of a “nice loud communal singalong”, as Franceschi puts it. The splintering riff and gutsy bridge on ‘No Future? Yeah Right’ and Sean Smith of The Blackout’s chanting appearance on ‘The Consequence’ remind us how very good You Me At Six are at what they do, and makes it all the more poignant that this will be their last festival show.  The band are fully aware of this mixed sentiment, and absolutely make the time to squeeze the last remaining juice from our sunburnt emotions. ‘Stay With Me’ bursts with life and starts a long, lazy line of swaying right to the back. “Thank you for making our dreams come true for the last twenty years,” gasps Franceschi, “this is our love letter to you,” before the lilac magic of ‘Always Attract’ fills the air and friends hug each other tightly before the lovely slide into ‘Take On The World’. Thousands upon thousands of tiny phone lights glow in the night on each tender line.

A gentle bounce to ‘Beautiful Way’ grows and intensifies as thousands take their last chance to enjoy You Me At Six; the desperate slam like their lives depend on it, the sensible begin to stream away into the darkness to rejoin the real world. It’s a masterful set that toys with the emotions and leaves you with a sense of both privilege and loss. [KA]