Divorce live review: the antithesis to the era of short-form content

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Trinity Centre, Bristol, 11th December 2025

A cold, dark Thursday evening in preparation for the holidays seems like the perfect time to go to a good, nurturing, cosy gig. Divorce, with their genre-bending alternative country songs, fit the bill perfectly.

The four-piece start their set with ‘Karen’ and ‘Jet Show’ off their latest record, Drive to Goldhammer, released earlier this year. The first few rows lined up directly by the stage are feeling the grooves, but if you look farther back, you’ll see hands in the air, dancing, and polite sing-alongs. Divorce bring a diverse audience to their shows; having been musically influenced by acts all over the musical spectrum, not shying away from adding elements of grunge, punk, folk, shoegaze and indie into the mix, they attract a fanbase that is equally divided across everything the UK music scene has to offer, from fans of Bristol legends Grove to rock ‘n’ roll dads and country lovers and everything in between. Having seen them open for art-pop act Everything Everything and drummer Kasper Sandstrøm in his other project Do Nothing, I was eager to see what a headline show would bring to the stage.

The group from Nottingham seem to perfectly balance the traditional indie-folk vibe that is commonly played in your local coffee shop, blended with the excitement of alternative country and the aforementioned heavier influences. It is wonderful to see independent artists from across the country support the local cultural scene in the cities they visit –and Felix made a point to shout out GiGi’s pizza on Old Market. This independent NY-style pizza joint heavily supports the local community and serves up some of the best slices to be found on this continent. In many ways, that’s what it’s all about: people supporting their community, and whilst the audience at Trinity may have been somewhat stagnant, they definitely made a point to show their reciprocal love for GiGi’s and other independent businesses in the area.

From the moment my ears first heard the masterpieces Divorce put out, both live and on record, I became mesmerised by their talent and sound. However, during their nearly 90-minute set at Trinity, I felt like the mellowness of some of their songs dragged at times. Around the halfway point of the show, socialising amongst fans started to occur in the smoking area as a handful of punters decided they’d seen enough and left – not knowing the set would pick up in energy and would get the whole room moving up and down in synchrony like a well-oiled machine by the time the encore came around.

Knowing I am a big fan of folk, alternative country, and sleazy indie, I know from experience that live performances in this genre can sometimes drag, no fault of the artist on stage or their talent and artistry. In an era of short-form content, overwhelming amounts of stimuli shoved into our brains every time we look at our phones, and the overwhelming grind of being a working adult in a cold and lonely December, can we really blame the lack of attention span on anyone in particular? Aren’t we all struggling to stay present and enjoy the moment? Should we hold the artist accountable for the audience’s energy, or is buying a ticket (especially around this time of year) and showing up to appreciate the beauty of it all enough?

Personally, I don’t think I will ever miss the opportunity to see Divorce and their magical harmonies and powerful vocals on top of a very solid, indie-rock, country-esque instrumental base. Whether I am always in the right headspace for it is another question – but then again, with such a large variety of excellent acts out there, sometimes you just gotta show up and appreciate the craftmanship, connection, and accept that even though they’re playing a song called ‘Antartica’, we’re all still sweaty and overheating, tying our many layers of December-worthy clothing around our waists. After all, a sweaty gig is never a bad sign, regardless of the genre.

Words and photos:  Willemijn Denneman, no use without permission.

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