2017 has been a good year for a lot of things, so far. Music is one, definitely. Nostalgia is also high up on the list.

Tuesday night at the Bataclan held the fifteenth anniversary tour for Simple Plan's breakout album No Pads, No Helmets... Just Balls.

Wednesday night at the Bataclan saw Good Charlotte returning to the French capital after a hiatus and a six year long absence.

Supporting both bands were young acts that I hope, in fifteen to twenty years, are going to make us as nostalgic as we all were these two days. Imagine us all standing in the same room again, headlined by the likes of these once young bands, fondly remembering that one time we tried to open a moshpit and someone pushed me because they weren't having any of it, so I fell over and cut my hand, or that one time we showed off our terrible, yet glorious dance moves.

Milestones are going up the ladder at break neck speed. With just one EP out (Equal Measures), they have found themselves supporting With Confidence on their UK/Europe tour back in March, but also Mayday Parade across the USA - and now, they're on the road with Simple Plan. Their catchy pop-punk sound is efficient and their lyrics are great for a singalong (which we do when we get back up from the Moshpit Incident). Their music should be working wonders around the continent this summer, and it's easy to see why they're growing as fast as they are. 

(Prior to that, the band performed quite the extensive acoustic set for La Maison Acoustique and sounded lovely. They also are the only Mancunians who don't know the words to Wonderwall. Who knew such a thing was possible)

Mallory Knox aren't exactly new. In the UK, they have no problem selling out venues of the thousand capacity variety, they are set to headline 2000 Trees Festival in a couple of weeks, and their three albums (2013's Signals, 2014's Asymmetry and this year's Wired) have done pretty well and provided the other side of the Channel with a bunch of excellent, polished, straight up alt-rock tunes. On the old continent, though, it's a different story. They have only ever come over as a support act (notably for Finch, One OK Rock or Sleeping With Sirens), or for festivals, and are only just starting to make a name for themselves. In the Bataclan, you can tell that some people know who they are, and that the vast majority of the crowd is enjoying what they're hearing. I can't blame them. What we've all heard that night is of the outstanding kind, for Mallory Knox never fail at delivering brilliant peformances, urgent and precise all at once, with flawless sound and vocals each and every time.

Issues, coming straight from Atlanta, Georgia, aren't exactly newbies either. The band, who was born from the ashes of Woe, Is Me in 2012, have already released two albums (a self-titled in 2014 and Headspace last year). They don't make the trek to Europe often enough to anyone's taste, and their Bataclan appearance in support of Good Charlotte is actually their first time in France. There's nothing wrong you can say about their performance. Every single song is the catchiest little thing ever, and if we tried hard enough, Issues could probably end up in the charts. Frontman Tyler Carter is one of these people in our scene who has a stunning RnB voice and could be a pop star, but has somehow decided to stick to alternative music. Every track is delivered with an impressive perfection and precision, but it doesn't seem to work on the Bataclan crowd - I suppose the sound is just a little too different from Good Charlotte's, and it's not what the audience expect or want tonight. Their music sadly falls on deaf ears, and it's a shame considering how good their performance is. Oh, well. Their loss. I enjoyed my terrible singalong to Never Lose Your Flames and Mad at Myself. I really can't sing.

State Champs might be the youngest band on tonight's bill, but there is no doubt they will have made an impression on the French crowd. From the get go, their fans (and they are aplenty in the room) start bouncing up and down, and open up a moshpit in joyous harmony. (Harmony, though, can't be used to describe the attempts at crowdsurfing - it seems Good Charlotte's crowd aren't happy with people crawling on top of their heads). The words to their sunny pop punk tunes (notably Remedy, Elevated or All You Are Is History) are easily echoed around the room, and if you didn't know, you could almost think they were the headliners. On stage, the band is energetic and jumps about the place, spins around - who's more energetic, the band or the crowd, it's hard to tell. Their music is the closest to Good Charlotte's in sound, and it wouldn't be surprising if they had earned themselves a fair amount of new fans with that tour.

Sleeping With Sirens might have four albums out, and might be one of the biggest names in the scene, and yet, they have never been to France before. I suppose it's now easy to picture the crowd's high level of expectation and excitement when the Americans come on stage - most people have waited for this moment for years. I have an issue with Sleeping With Sirens - I just don't like the vocals. During their forty-something minute set, they play banger after banger, I know more lyrics than I care to admit, and I can objectively say that their songs are very good - I just can't shake off the fact that I don't like the vocals. Each to their own, right? Personal taste aside, the band's performance is solid, and frontman Kellin Quinn's beatboxing of the Mario Bros theme to keep the audience occupied while a technical issue was being resolved was a surprising addition to the set. (I enjoyed it more than I ever thought I would ever enjoy a beatbox version of the Mario Bros theme) I can't deny they are a good band. I suppose I'll just keep on liking the couple of songs I like (If You Can't Hang and Do It Now, Remember It Later), and stay fairly neutral about them.

Simple Plan and Good Charlotte are bands that have made their way into my life at the same time, give or take a couple of months.
I was fifteen when I first heard the Canadians' Welcome to My Life in a car ad on television, and I was sixteen or seventeen when my friend Magali lent me her MP3 player for me to get new tunes. I found Good Charlotte's My Bloody Valentine in there and became hooked. The main point is - I was a teenager, and both bands shaped my formative years, exposing the emo in me to the world. (I don't think the world really needed it, but here we are)

Both tours have an air of nostalgia about them. Simple Plan are celebrating the fifteen year anniversary of their debut album, No Pads, No Helmets... Just Balls, and Good Charlotte are making a comeback after a four year hiatus. During the night, both bands will talk about taking it back to 2002, or 2007, telling us that we have all grown up together - ain't that the truth. Watching such iconic bands with my friends for the first time is special. We share stories. One is definitely going to cry to Perfect because it pulls on their heartstrings. One wants us to have a dance to My Alien for her because it's her favourite song. One has hoped to hear Grow Up live for the past ten, fifteen years. When it comes to Good Charlotte, one is excited to hear The Young and the Hopeless, more than any other song on the setlist. One is going to jam to Girls & Boys like there's no tomorrow. One remembers that I Just Wanna Live is the first song of theirs she's ever heard. All of us have stories related to those bands. They made us who we are, they most likely were our gateway into pop-punk, into alternative music in general, they propelled us into the scene we are a part of.


More than being important parts of who we are, Good Charlotte and Simple Plan are truly great live bands. It's been fifteen years, and Simple Plan still jump about on stage with an unmatched energy. The bands I listen to and watch live that display that much constant energy are very few. When you watch them, you watch a band who very, very obviously wanted to still be on a stage fifteen years after their first record, who probably still want to be on a stage fifteen years from now, if anyone will still have them. They still have the impertinent charm, the banter that made them the household name they are, they are still very true to what made them. They still have a knack at interacting with the crowd, a knack few other bands have - obviously, speaking French helps them greatly in France, and yet it's about more than the language. Getting people with posters on stage for a group picture is a nice, friendly touch, having drummer Chuck Comeau sing the end of a song, then stagedive while frontman Pierre Bouvier plays the drums is another brilliant moment, not hiding why bass player David Desrosiers is not on the tour is honest and very welcome. I have been listening to Simple Plan for twelve years, now, ever since I was a fifteen year old with no direction, no sense of style and no words to express my teenage angst. Catch me at whatever tour the Canadians will surely do in twelve years' time (and, hopefully before that). I'll still be here singing my little heart out.

Good Charlotte tell us they have been a band since 1996. When the date hangs in the air, we all look at each other, wondering what we were all doing back then, back in the day, how old we were. I was a six year old child whose musical world revolved around French boy bands and the Spice Girls, and it's mindblowing to think that in the meantime, somewhere in America, a band who would change my life was jamming their first ever tunes and trying to find their feet. Twenty one years later (gasp!), Good Charlotte are on a stage in Paris, and it seems that after the break, they are here to stay. No one mentions the hiatus, like it's a dirty word, but mostly like it never happened, like Good Charlotte never went anywhere. When you watch them on a stage, nothing has changed. Sure, they don't look the way they used to, they don't look like the pictures I used to see in magazines before I had any way of listening to them. Gone are the eyeliner and the raven black spikes bigger than my hands, but Good Charlotte, at heart, are still the same band. They're still the kids who had nothing, and somehow made it, a real American Dream story this scene doesn't seem to have anymore. It still shows, in a way. There is so much emotion in the way they perform. They are not a band who jumps around and spins until they are dizzy, they don't really tell jokes. They are all about the emotion, even during now alternative club night classic numbers such as The Anthem or Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Somehow, it feels like they still know what it feels like to be the outcast, to be the kid who gets picked last in gym class, to be the kid no one looks twice at. It something that never goes away, something you learn from and, in Good Charlotte's case, something that you turn into something beautiful. Thir live performance is nothing short of utterly beautiful, so heartfelt and real it hurts a little bit. Hold On will always pull on my heartstrings, will always throw me back to times when music was the sole thing I had. I still know what it feels like to be the kid who has nothing, to be the kid who is angsty enough to listen to My Bloody Valentine every Valentine's Day because she feels like no one will ever love her (I didn't know it was a song about murdering someone, sue me, I was sixteen and didn't speak English), to be the kid who had nothing but a couple of records and a whole lot of hope. I'm not anymore. I'm a grown woman who smiles when My Bloody Valentine comes on, who dances to The Anthem with a drink in hand and her best friends in tow, who jellyfishes in a moshpit to Dance Floor Anthem, I'm a grown woman with a lot of records, a lot of feelings, a lot of hope and a lot going on.





Those two nights watching the bands who made me the person I am today, and the bands who give me adventures with my friends were very special times for me. I suppose, every once in a while, the angsty teen I once was has to come out again to meet up with the emotional adult I have become, so they can have a dance together. 

After Germany, I went ahead and tried out a new country for live music : Italy. I flew all the way down to Milan to attend the first European night of Enter Shikari's Take to the Skies celebration.

The evening, alongside the entire mainland tour, is opened by Cambridge boys Mallory Knox, whom I have seen quite a few times recently and whom, I am not going to lie, have greatly influenced my decision to do the traveling thing again. The five piece have only been to Italy once before (in support of One OK Rock in 2014), and, therefore, not a lot of people know who they are. But those who do, like myself, my friend Mia, a couple of people on barrier or the guy next to me who looks and sounds like he has waited to hear Beggars live his whole life, they are loud and into it, they open a little moshpit and they sing along, they headbang and they give it their all. 

On stage, as always, Mallory Knox are having the time of their life and look genuinely delighted to be here. Frontman Mikey Chapman will try his hand at Italian, and his couple of words will be rewarded by warm applause from the crowd. The band's performance is flawless and impeccable as ever, and I find myself in a position where, once again, I have run out of words. 

The setlist is mostly composed of tracks extracted from the band's latest record, Wired, in the form of the bouncy California or the electric Giving It Up. Asymmetry is well represented as well, and there is, as always, a nod to Signals with single and ultimate banger Beggars.

And that's it.

Lighthouse has disappeared from the setlist and I am pretty sure that the last time I saw Mallory Knox and they didn't play it, it was because the song did not exist yet.

Imagine my confusion.

The crowd's reaction and the amount of people waiting at the end of the show to have a chat with the guys tells me this set has been nothing short of a success, and when the band comes back to Italy next month (in support of Simple Plan in Milan and Padova), there is no doubt it should go just as brilliantly. 

Half an hour later, the crowd is absolutely ecstatic, and... Enter Shikari aren't even on stage yet. This is my first Italian gig ever and I don't really know what to expect. Most bands don't tour Italy and the crowds don't have that much of a reputation abroad.

According to my friend Mia, though, Italian crowds are known to be very passionate, and the least I can say is this is very true. From the first to the last second, the band aren't the only ones celebrating ten years of an album - they have an adoring crowd celebrating it too, celebrating the band they love.

It's Enter Shikari they have on stage, so, unsurprisingly, celebration comes in the form of joyous walls of deaths, circle pits (including one featuring the band's bass player, Chris Batten, who is either fearless or has a death wish, your pick), crowdsurfing and loud, very, very loud singalongs. 

The energy shown by the crowd is only matched by the one on stage.

Enter Shikari are one of these bands that, technically, don't have much to prove anymore. Everything they release is highly successful, every single one of their tours is met by a rare enthusiasm and a huge turnout, and they have one of the best reputations out of every band in this scene. Mention Enter Shikari to anyone who knows them and you will only hear praise - praise about their live show, praise about the quality of their music, praise about how down to Earth they are, praise about their political and human engagement. Enter Shikari aren't a band who has some sort of "hype" around them, like a fad that comes and goes. If they have any sort of hype around, it's been there for ten solid years. I got into their music in 2011, and for the past six years, the enthusiasm and excitement about them, their tours and projects has been the same. If anything, it has grown with them, it has improved with the amount of people who love them. 

They are only getting bigger and going more and more places. Since I started listening to them, they have headlined festivals, they have headlined the second stage at Download twice, they have done arena tours. Many a band would just rest on their laurels after that. I have been lucky enough to see Enter Shikari live fourteen times and every time, they play like a band who still has everything to prove. They play with the enthusiasm and conviction of a band on their first tour, a band who doesn't know what kind of crowd they are going to face. 

This tour is not just your average Enter Shikari tour (is there such a thing as "your average Enter Shikari tour", though? I don't believe so). It is the ten year anniversary of the band's début album, Take to The Skies. Released on the 19th of March 2007, the album has become a staple in our scene, a gateway into heavy music for a lot of people, and songs like Mothership, or Sorry You're Not a Winner, have become absolute classics. It's been ten years and God forbid if you don't clap at the right times during Sorry You're Not a Winner. It's been ten years and hearing any of these songs live still sends fans into an unmatched frenzy. It's been a whole decade of an album which stands the test of time and is still relevant to this day. As frontman Rou Reynolds remind us, the lyrics to Labyrinth, today, ring truer than ever. "We'll break the walls".

A thing I adored about this show is how Enter Shikari did not just play the album, leave the stage and come back for some sort of half arsed, greatest hits encore. Not that I expected them to. Still, it was a pleasant and welcome surprise to hear songs off different albums dotted here and there (Juggernauts, Torn Apart or Anaesthetist). It shows the band's evolution and how all their albums can be connected together, how they are not just four random collections of random songs. (Not that anyone would ever think they were, but it never hurts to be reminded of an artist's genius) And, without even thinking about the cohesion in Enter Shikari's music and career, Sorry You're Not a Winner into Juggernauts might have been one of the best, most brilliant things I have ever heard performed on a stage. 

Scratch that.

Maybe that show, as a whole, was one of the best, most brilliant things I have ever seen performed on a stage.

When bands announce tours, my first reflex is to check out where they are playing in London. I don't even like London that much, but there's something about it, you know. It's the capital, for starters. The biggest city. That's also where my local shows have been for a little over a year. It's where I know the venues best. It's, in a way, another place where I feel like I belong. My love/hate relationship with London usually turns into love again as soon as I walk inside one of its venues. Especially Koko. I love Koko.

I was incredibly proud to see Mallory Knox headline Koko two nights in a row. There's a lot of personal stuff in there, a sort of attachment and pride only twenty nine shows in five different countries can bring. Mostly, there's a brilliant band who I have been lucky and privileged enough to see grow and evolve, and it's always a pleasure seeing them get bigger and play larger venues.

Like Koko.

Two nights in a row.
It's been a week, and thinking about it still makes me a little bit emotional.

Both evenings started with Scottish band Fatherson. I've seen them twice, before - once in Brighton, once in London.
Both times, I had been in two very different frames of mind, but both times, I have found in their music the same feeling I could get if I ever sat down tucked in a warm blanket in front of a fireplace, clutching a hot cup of tea. They're probably the soundtrack I would pick for that activity, come to think of it. They are comforting, they feel like a cuddle.
Koko feels a little bit different - both times I had seen them had happened in smaller rooms, so there is something less intimate about these sets. It still feels lovely and warm, of course, it does - I think the bottom line is that whatever the environment, Fatherson just radiate warmth. They're also brilliant sing along material, when you know the words, like I'm starting to do.
They are, mostly, one of the finest, best bands this country and this scene has to offer. They are everything, all at once. They are warm and delicate. Their music is explosive and sensitive. Ross Leighton's voice is unique, and it gives me chills. Damn. That band is really, really special.

Second up is Lonely The Brave. I had seen Lonely The Brave once before these two days, and I think I just hadn't understood it. It happens, sometimes. I had stood at the back (of Koko, once again), wondering what the hell was going on.
I don't know what changed, since then. Are they an acquired taste? Was I not in the right space of mind?
I just know that on Wednesday and Thursday night, I have heard in David Jakes one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard, and it feels like a waste of the past three years not acknowledging that, not knowing that. I have heard some beautifully, delicately crafted rock songs, some beautiful pieces of musicianship, songs that are born to become arena or stadium anthems (hello, Backroads - even I knew the words and I can't quite explain why). I have seen a band with a unique stage presence, one that I misunderstood all those years ago because I didn't know the reasons why. I think I've been slightly blown away, and it took me by surprise, but I wish every band who ever walks on a stage could give me the feeling Lonely The Brave did when I saw them last week. Taking me by storm.
Second chances aren't that bad an idea, after all.





And then it's time for Mallory Knox, "my boys" as I call them a little bit too much.
They open with Giving It Up, the explosive, energetic, fiery opening track to their latest record, Wired, and the entirety of Koko immediately starts moving around, jumping, moshing and throwing limbs about. (We only did one night in the crowd, we retreated to one of the side stage balconies for the second evening)
This energy showed by the London crowd will not stop for a minute, and, for an hour and a half, the audience is singing along to every word, bouncing up and down, colliding into each other and getting involved. It feels like a big party, down there, and on the first time, I try my best to bust out my best dance moves - it gets a little complicated as the night progresses and my shoes are literally stuck to the wooden floors, and I am afraid I'll lose them if I try to move.


On stage, all I can see is a band having the time of their life. One thing I've always loved about watching Mallory Knox live is that they only ever radiate happiness. There are many a band I've seen that looked like they would rather have their eyeballs taken out of their sockets with a rusty spoon than be on a stage - the Cambridge boys aren't one of them. For an hour and a half, roughly, their big smiles and enthusiasm are infectious. Not much compares to watching a band having the time of their life.
That's how you end up having the time of your life, too.





Mallory Knox are touring in support of their newest album, Wired, released earlier this year. The new songs are well received by the crowd and words are echoed by over a thousand people every night, showing you that despite what you could have thought, the boys have a faithful following, solid and strong enough to know most words to songs that have been out in this world for barely a month.
I rarely think about it, you know.
They are one of the most discreet bands in the UK scene. They are going strong, going bigger from album to album, but they aren't on every magazine cover or promoted by every media outlet. Granted, they've been in magazines at times and I've heard Better Off Without You on BBC Radio One, but, you know... they don't exactly have the media presence of a band like twenty one pilots, if you know what I mean. They are still fairly small and independent.
And they're still doing extremely well.


I've been following Mallory Knox closely since the day my friend Cat took me to see them at Takedown, in 2012, because she thought they sounded like You Me At Six and I would like it. It's been five years now, twenty nine shows, five countries and enough material to tell you how I have seen this band evolve.
They've always had something. They have always had a stage presence and they have always had a little special thing that made me look twice and listen closely. I couldn't quite place it. Now, this something special has fully grown and developed into confidence. I can tell it in the way they play, in the way they interact with the crowd. They're not a bunch of kids in a rock band anymore, they are grown men who believe the music they do is good and who are proud of what they can produce and achieve. They are confident without being cocky, they have attitude but aren't show offs.





Every time I have seen them over the past five years, every song has been a pleasure to hear live.
I could complain that they seem to have ditched Oceans forever or that they have replaced one of my favourite songs, Heart & Desire, with newbie Falling in Love, but I really don't mind. Every time a song starts, whichever one it is, I just get hit at breakneck speed by how much of a jam it is, how much I love it and, at times, how much I relate to it.
It happens with the older ones, with Lighthouse and with Beggars (still my favourite after all this time).
It happens with songs extracted from Asymmetry, like Shout at the Moon or Getaway.
It even happens with the new songs - they are in my brain and in my life already. It happens when I hear the first notes of Lucky Me or California, and it happens when I realise that the song I've wanted to hear live the most, all night, is Better Off Without You.



Ever since they had announced their two night residency at Koko, I knew seeing Mallory Knox there would be incredibly special. I can try and put words on it. I can tell you it's a pinnacle in five years of following those fine musicians and fine men around. I can tell you it's a victory for UK rock music, because these two nights were all about three incredible UK rock bands putting on one hell of a show. I can tell you many things, and yet none of it would be close enough to the truth.
This is it, guys. Words have failed me.

See how I was scared about 2017 because most of my favourite bands had released new albums in 2016 and I didn't know who would be here for me this year? Be still, my little heart. There's plenty of new music for me to dig my teeth in.

ALBUMS & EPs

After finishing the Asymmetry era on a high, we all knew Mallory Knox had the ability to make a big, ambitious rock record to match their big plans. Well, they’ve just gone and done it, and at the same time, they topped every expectation I could have possibly had. Wired might just be the Cambridge boys' best record, and I have no doubt that it’ll become my favourite anytime soon. It’s got everything I love about Mallory Knox’s music. It’s got ginormous choruses I cannot wait to lose my voice to in festival fields and packed venues. It’s got the perfect harmony of Mikey Chapman’s and Sam Douglas’ voices. It’s got a pure, unfaltering energy, from start to finish. It’s also got so much more than that. It’s got riffs all over the place, and let me tell you, Giving It Up into California into Wired is one hell of a way to start a record. Wired is urgent and fast paced, it’s all killer and absolutely no filler - and it’s not just your average big sounding rock record either. It’s got groovier vibes (For You, Come Back Around) that remind me of Oasis at times. The lyrics are more sensitive, more personal, even. Better Off Without You (Citalopram), dealing with bassist Sam Douglas’ anxiety, has to be one of Mallory Knox’s best songs while being one of the most truthful and honest. Wired is the record I wanted Mallory Knox to make without even knowing it.

Today, they’ve been announced as Thursday headliners for 2000 Trees, and recently, they have been added to two major tours (Simple Plan’s fifteenth anniversary tour for No Pads, No Helmets… Just Balls and Enter Shikari’s European stint for the ten year anniversary of Take to the Skies), and I can just feel that Wired is the record that’s going to take these boys to the next level.

Before this, I had just heard of Can’t Swim - mostly because they will be touring Europe alongside Real Friends in April, and only in good terms. The release of their first full length, Fail You Again, in March, seemed like a good reason to finally give a listen to their music. From the get go, I find Fail You Again catchy and energetic, and Christ, I absolutely adore Chris LoPorto’s voice. At times soft and at others gritty, it is unique and stunning. Fail You Again feels like the calm and the storm all at once, with songs that are explosive (All the Moves We Make Are in the Dark, We Won’t Sleep) and others softer and more delicate (Quitting), but it’s Stranger that wins it all and embodies that feeling all at once, starting off slowly only to hit you hard in the chorus. The lyrics deal with the loss of someone (Friend, Molly’s Desk), of oneself and are a journey to find yourself, it seems. Fail You Again is a wonderful début album, and on this one, I’m glad I trusted everyone around me.

Another début album has been given to the world in 2017, courtesy of London based Counterfeit. The band has been making waves recently, and it’s safe to say their first full length, Together We Are Stronger, had been long awaited. It’s one record that does not disappoint. From start to finish, there is no dull time, and every song is energetic, catchy, very in your face and yet, it’s more than that. The best explanation for that is the stunning Lost Everything, grand and soaring all throughout… and rendered unique by the mix of strings and vocalist Jamie Campbell-Bower’s screams. Together We Are Stronger is a record full of urgency, the songs are short and fast paced and it feels like a bomb exploding in your face with every track, every beat of the drums, every riff, every word. It’s an album that manages to surprise you one last time by closing with its slowest, most delicate song, the beautiful Letters to the Lost. Let me tell you, Together We Are Stronger is one great album and most importantly, one I want to hear performed live.

One of the albums I was most excited to hear this year was Sorority Noise's You're Not As ____ As You Think, and I have not been disappointed. Songs about death, guilt, mental health and a friend's suicide. On paper, it sounds very bleak, doesn't it? And yet it's a record that is infinitely comforting, and full of light. It's the way I have always felt about Sorority Noise. Every time I've seen them live, it's how I felt - like something had exploded all around me and for a short amount of time, I wasn't alone, and someone got it. This is how You're Not As ____ As You Think feels, too. It's beautiful and sensitive, positive and honest, and I am extremely grateful we have a band like them to deal with mental health issues in such an honest way. Depression isn't pretty, anxiety isn't just being awkward. Mental health issues are ugly and uncomfortable, and a song like Disappeared depicts it in such a truthful way it hurts and yet, it makes you feel less alone. You're Not As _____ As You Think is an open window into frontman Cameron Boucher's mind, and it's one we desperately needed if we intend on breaking that stigma and make mental health issues valid.


On the 24th of March, I woke up to Northlane pulling a Beyoncé and dropping their fourth full length, Mesmer, as a surprise. And what a brilliant surprise it is indeed. It's catchy all the way through and yet it is technical. It is very atmospheric and yet heavy at times. Vocalist Marcus Bridge has one of the most wonderful voices I've ever heard and his cleans are heaven to my ears. It seems Northlane have found the perfect balance between all the elements I love in metal, blended them together and made the one hell of an album with it all. The lyrics, whether they are about the way we relate to our planet (Solar) or the loss of a loved one are clever and beautiful, and the more personal songs (Heartmachine, Fade, Veridian) are written in a way that can speak to everyone, they're made relatable without being a cliché. It's no secret that Northlane's history has heavily been influenced by Architects, and it's no surprise they would write the late Tom Searle a tribute, and it comes in the form of closer Paragon, an absolutely stunning piece of music that absolutely broke my heart. Overall, there's a positive energy in that record, a sense of wanting to change things but in a very peaceful way. There's something so organic and pure about Northlane that I am loving more and more every day.


Coast To Coast's The Length of a Smile is the best surprise I've had in 2017, in the way that I don't know what I was expecting, but everything has been blown out of the water. This is an incredible EP, full of nostalgia, and Coast To Coast are a band with a wonderful sound. You can hear the pop punk roots, sometimes, but to me, in sound, they're closer to a band like Deaf Havana and no, it's also not Deaf Havana meets pop punk either. It's something that I can't quite describe, that has taken me by surprise and that I have a lot of love and time for.

I used to really, really like Ed Sheeran. I heard You Need Me, I Don’t Need You on the radio, once, before + was released, and I fell for it, hard and headfirst. I saw him live following this, I even met him. And then Don’t happened and I jumped off the bandwagon. Sheeran just released is long awaited third album, Divide, and it’s not the album that is going to make me jump back on the bandwagon. The singles are alright, and there are some good tunes here and there, but it doesn’t really do anything for me anymore. I’ve got to a point where I would probably singalong and not change the channel/station if he came on the radio/TV, but that’s about it. I can’t say Divide is a bad album, it’s alright, not album of the year but not bottom of the industrial sized bin either, but… some lyrics are downright embarrassing, though. In Shape of You, Ed and the girl he has his eye on (whom he probably met in the eighties seeing as a jukebox was involved) go to an all you can eat buffet and, well, they’re “thrifty” so she fills her handbag with food. And they say romance is dead.


So, I've listened to Creeper's Eternity, In Your Arms. And I can't say it's a bad album, because it clearly is not. It's dramatic and vivid, it's cleverly written and it's technically impeccable. You could totally make a musical out of it, complete with dance numbers, and knowing my love for musicals and dance numbers that is a compliment of the highest form coming from me. But apart from the objective, I think I just don't get it? I have no idea what just happened to me. Maybe I'll get it sometime.

MY NEW FAVOURITE ACTS

We'll start with something that is, indeed, all new. Sainte is born from the ashes of We Are The In Crowd, and it's basically WATIC's vocalist Tay Jardine's new musical project. It's absolutely everything I adore in pop music, it’s catchy and and it makes you want to dance in your living room. The music videos are brightly coloured and pop arty and they fill my heart with joy and cater to my love of colour block and brightly coloured make up. Sainte have only released two songs as we speak, Technicolor and, more recently, With or Without Me, and I cannot wait for more music.

The best thing about attending a lot of shows on the same tour can be support bands - outside of seeing your band of choice several times, that is. Going to five shows out of With Confidence's Better Weather tour brought Canadian outfit Safe To Say in my life. They quickly moved on from "the band I'd love to see in Brighton because they'd fit in so perfectly there" to "the band I cannot get enough of" - only me to go see a band for their sugary sweet tunes and to leave a fan of the emo, alt-rock, darker support. I cannot recommend Safe To Say enough if you're a fan of having your heart ripped out of your chest because feelings.

THE PLAYLIST

This month’s playlist includes :

In 2015, while I was at T in the Park, a smaller festival was taking place near Cheltenham, in south west England : 2000 Trees. I adored every single minute of T, but there was still a part of me that would have loved to be surrounded by all these trees. My friends all were there and kept praising the event, and the likes of Deaf Havana, We Are The Ocean, Bury Tomorrow and The Xcerts were playing. 

It felt like my dream festival.

And in 2016, here I went.