We’re older and wiser as Saturday dawns across the Cotswolds; our suncream is applied, the clashfinders have been checked, and we’re ready to kick the final epic day of Trees into gear!
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]
