TrueStyleMusic

Harry Styles’ ‘Kiss All The Time. Disco, Occasionally’ is a funky, synth-infused afterparty to end the night

After a couple of marathons, watching the new Pope get inaugurated, and taking inspiration from the Berlin party scene, Harry Styles is finally back with a groove. He’s had quite a run of promo for this new record (performing ‘Aperture’ at the Brits; releasing a ‘One Night Only’ Netflix film; and serving double duty on SNL to name a few), and it looks to be working out – Styles has just earned himself the biggest opening week of his career so far. There’s a liberating swagger on this album that balances between both safe and experimental choices – while he seems to have found his footing in this electronic, synth-pop album that leans heavily on a sound akin to LCD Soundsystem, there’s something about KATTDO that still feels familiar all the same.

‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ is a punchy, party-fuelled pop-rock tune with warbling synths and a wicked bassline

The lead single and opener, ‘Aperture’ was unlike anything we had heard from Styles so far, but it felt like he was attempting to replicate a similar reaction to when ‘Sign of the Times’ was released as his debut single after going solo. There’s quite a contrast between a typical, radio-friendly One Direction track and a 6-minute piano-rock ballad, and the same can be said for Harry’s House’s ‘As It Was’ compared to this. Still, it left fans divided – ‘Aperture’ lacked the same replayability that his previous hits had boasted, but musically it was interesting, and artistically-speaking, Styles was doing something new (at least, for him). It also sets the tone for KATTDO decently – ‘Aperture’ is a moody, emotions-first track that’s slathered with subtle beats, almost lo-fi but not quite; an underwater dance-ballad.

The next two tracks, ‘American Girls’ and ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’, take this exact sentiment and soar with it – marking themselves as two of the strongest songs on this record. ‘American Girls’ is a melancholic but cathartic simple tune with catchy piano chords and a great hook, and it’s here that Styles’ vocals are able to take centre stage. Next, ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ is a punchy, party-fuelled pop-rock tune with warbling synths and a wicked bassline – and yet, Styles also manages to sprinkle in a silky, crooning hook (“But you call Leon / You call it only in my head”) and a twinkling piano to complement the scratchy strain of the guitars.

Lyrics aside, the tunes themselves remain slick and electronic, clearly infused with a post-party, late-night melancholy, all on the dance floor

But while the production of KATTDO itself is satisfying – particularly towards the front-end of the album – it would be difficult to conjure up memorable lyrics. The next song, ‘Are You Listening Yet?’ suffers from an elongated sense of repetition that perhaps went amiss with the first three tracks, simply because they were stronger. Here, choruses, hooks and outros blend together (“Oh, are you listening yet? Oh, are you listening yet? / Now you’re all out of choices, are you listening yet?”), and Styles seems to oversteer towards the abstract here within his lyricism.

Styles is certainly saying a lot in KATTDO, but it’s simultaneously hard to grasp an actual story that’s being told, and it feels like he wants us to fill in the gaps of meaning ourselves. ‘Season 2 Weight Loss’ – a cascading anthem stolen straight from Sam Levinson’s Euphoria – suffers this fate with lyrics like “Aren’t you for sale if you’re cashin’ in cold? […] And the old hat gets harder to hold”. Similarly, ‘Dance No More’ – weirdly, the only disco-themed song on the album – begs us to “Get our feet wet / teach them all to respect their mothers”.

Lyrics aside –the tunes themselves remain slick and electronic, clearly infused with a post-party, late-night melancholy, all on the dance floor. Except, that is, two standout tracks: ‘Coming Up Roses’ and ‘Paint By Numbers’. While both are indeed strong ballads – ‘Coming Up Roses’ features a gorgeous, Disney-esque orchestra at the end – neither sonically match with the rest of the album’s hazy, experimental funk.

It’s familiar because he’s not shying away from what makes his music and performances so captivating – it’s charisma under a disco ball

This album is not a perfect one, but there are certainly tracks that are fun and full of Styles’ liberated swagger. It’s familiar because he’s not shying away from what makes his music and performances so captivating – it’s charisma under a disco ball, at the end of the night, alone, but charisma all the same. ‘Taste Back’ is a gorgeously shiny, sentimental pop hit with sweet lyrics that reminisce over a past relationship – an ex is “lonely in Paris” and Styles wonders if they “just need a little love”. ‘Pop’ moves like the older cousin of ‘Cinema’ off of Harry’s House, where obsessive, celebrity-hook-up gossip takes the reins (“Katie’s waiting to be your game-day saviour / First time tasting it / It’s nice to mix two flavours together / Mmmm”) – and the album’s closer, ‘Carla’s Song’, is a euphoric waterfall of harmonies and cries that echoes the same beauty as Styles’ sophomore closer, ‘Fine Line’.

Styles has a subtle, unscratched confidence here, and it’s impressive while setting foot into new, artistic territory. He might not be reinventing the wheel – these electronic sounds have lived before, and will live beyond him – but it’s a move into a more experimental vision where male pop stars are already infrequently dominating groovy, dance-pop spaces. Despite the synth-heavy, afterparty melancholy that swaying on the dance floor alone might bring you, it’s clear that Styles’ party is still just getting started.

Recommended listening: ‘Taste Back’

Words: Christopher Tang

Courtney Hadwin live review: with a few more tours under her belt, she could become something seriously formidable

The Louisiana, Bristol, 18th February 2026

On Wednesday night I caught Courtney Hadwin on the penultimate date of her tour at The Louisiana. At just 21 years old, the Geordie powerhouse first shot to fame on America’s Got Talent, but live in Bristol it was clear she’s far more than a TV talent show alumna — she’s a fully-fledged rock vocalist with serious presence.

A voice as commanding as Hadwin’s feels destined for much larger stages, which made this intimate setting all the more special. The Louisiana allowed the audience to feel the full force of both her vocals and the band’s musicianship. The live arrangements leaned into gritty, 70s-inspired rock roots — rawer and, in my opinion, stronger than some of the more polished production found on her studio recordings. There was an edge and immediacy to the performance that really suited her.

Guitarist Orlando was a particular highlight, tearing through blistering solos with confidence and flair. The interplay between him and Courtney was one of the most compelling aspects of the night — a back-and-forth energy that elevated several tracks and hinted at the potential for an even tighter unit as the tour progresses.

Between songs, Hadwin embraced the intimacy of the venue, chatting openly with the crowd and offering insight into the stories behind her music. Many of her songs stem from feelings of not quite fitting in at school and finding solace in legendary voices such as Tina Turner, Janis Joplin and Aretha Franklin. Those influences are clear — not in imitation, but in spirit. There’s a similar sense of emotional abandon when she really lets go vocally.

Standout moments included her original track ‘Electric’, which she described as one of her favourites to perform. It carried a punchy confidence and felt tailor-made for the stage. Equally impressive was her cover of The Beatles’ ‘Yer Blues’, which suited her smoky, powerful tone perfectly — it genuinely sounded like it could have been one of her own compositions.

If and when she returns to Bristol, I’ll be there. Next time, hopefully in a bigger venue — she deserves the space to properly strut and command the stage. With a few more tours under their belt and a more consistent onstage aesthetic to match Courtney and Orlando’s presence, this could become something seriously formidable.

Words and photos: David Jeffery-Hughes, no use without permission.

Westside Cowboy live review: a band well on their way to the big stages

The Bullingdon, Oxford, 8th February 2026

“These guys are the real deal,” someone says barely two songs into Westside Cowboy’s set at Oxford’s Bullingdon. It’s the kind of comment that’s followed them for a while, as they’ve made their way round the first circuit of festival fields and pub basements. On their second headline tour, though, the noise feels justified. No longer resembling hotly-tipped newcomers, Westside Cowboy instead feel like a band warming up for the big stages.

Before they’d even recorded a single, Westside Cowboy had coined their own descriptor: ‘Britainicana’. While the term could read as marketing, onstage, it makes sense. There’s the reach of British indie in their ambition, offset by the plainspoken warmth of American folk and country. Likewise, early backing from Black Country, New Road, followed by a win at Glastonbury’s Emerging Talent competition in 2025, accelerated their ascent. And while the hype came quickly, they carry it remarkably comfortably.

The set opens with a shouted “WESTSIDEEE COWBOYYY!” from guitarist and vocalist Reuben Haycock – part battle cry, part mission statement – before they launch into ‘I’ve Never Met Anyone I thought I Could Really Love (Until I Met You)’. Despite the loose release of its choruses, it’s played with composure rather than scappiness, with the band matching the studio recording’s detail without fault.

Even the way they’re dressed, in baggy t-shirts and oversized jeans, suggests that becoming larger than-life-rockstars is not high on their list of priorities

If there’s one thing Westside Cowboy understand, however, it’s buildup and release. A track may start one way, but it then ends completely differently as harmonies are added, tempos shift, and arrangements are altered. When ‘Shells’ begins as an airy folk sketch, the ruckus from the previous songs – the punk-leaning ‘Alright Alright Alright’ and power-chord rush of ‘Can’t See’ – means the track has room to breathe. Consequently, when ‘Shells’ crashes into beat-driven disarray, it expands to fill the room. With vocal duties spread across Haycock, bassist Aoife Anson-O’Connell, and guitarist Jimmy Bradbury, the song is pushed to its limit.

The chemistry between the foursome reads as instinctive rather than rehearsed, coming across as friends who happen to be doing what they love together rather than a mishmash of talented musicians. At one point, Haycock runs offstage, returning moments later with a grin: “Sorry, I was about to piss myself. Wouldn’t have made great content. Or maybe it would.” The joke undercuts any grand narrative forming around them. Even the way they’re dressed, in baggy t-shirts and oversized jeans, suggests that becoming larger than-life-rockstars is not high on their list of priorities.

Still, the ambition is obvious, and the momentum is hard to ignore

The real beauty, however, comes towards the end of the set. On ‘Strange Taxidermy’, Anson-O’Connell’s high register cuts clean through the quiet: “Well old Billy, I think I do love you / You’ve mastered the passing of time,” she sings. It’s met with firm restraint from the crowd. Rather than ruining the moment with a singalong, they stay almost silent, instead letting the track’s spectral grace wash over them.

For the finale, ‘In the Morning’, all four members, including drummer Paddy Murphy, take to the front of the stage. Armed with only a guitar and a drum, they gather around one microphone, almost as if it were a campfire, and let their harmonies do the talking instead.

The only real limitation to the show is the size of their catalogue. For all their onstage confidence (and the fact they’ve fully settled into their identity), Westside Cowboy still only have two EPs to their name. Still, the ambition is obvious, and the momentum is hard to ignore. Give it a few years, and it’s easy to picture them topping the bills of the same venues and festivals they’re currently playing their way towards.

Words and photos: Sophie Flint Vázquez, no use without permission.

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

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.

Role Model live at the Hammersmith Apollo is a twangy and spirited crowd-pleaser

Hammersmith Apollo, 4th November 2025

When Role Model – or Tucker, to his fans – took the stage at London’s Hammersmith Apollo for the deluxe European leg of his No Place Like Tour, fan excitement was palpable. He’s done an excellent job crafting this roguish, cheeky image of himself, so the moment Sabrina Carpenter’s ‘Bed Chem’ hits the speakers, no announcement is needed. It’s an unofficial sign that, for some ridiculous reason, this is Tucker’s song. He’s next on the agenda.

We’re all actively involved and brought in on his performance – the fans are all part of the show

And it’s this fan-focused buzz and playful persona that Role Model seems to have expertly crafted with his audience that makes the show so audacious. We’re not just watching a singer perform – rather, we’re all actively involved and brought in on his performance. The fans are all part of the show. As he kicks off the night with ‘Writings On The Wall’, his persona is immediately relaxed, chilled-out. Role Model has this vintage yet trendy feel about him, and he confidently brings that into the spotlight with all of us taking part.

His stage presence is immediately inclusive – it does seem like we’re all in one big friendship group here, from the way the crowd chants back “white gold!” when he sings “she had the hoops” at the end of ‘Look At That Woman’, or “baby I’ll do the dishes!” after the lyrics “loving me is like doing a chore” in the middle of ‘The Longest Goodbye’. Even at the bridge of ‘Some Protector’, the audience is on their feet, head-banging, smashing through every lyric as per tradition. Fans know that if there was ever a better time to scream along to a song’s lyrics, it’s now. But fan inclusion and tradition doesn’t just go as far as singing along or chanting. During the wistful and mellow ‘Frances’, the crowd stuns by immediately bringing out their flashlights without any prompt from Role Model himself, illuminating the Hammersmith Apollo in this starry, blue-light dreamscape of fans singing their hearts out.

Each song is accompanied by a colour and glow that is perfectly designed to emulate what it is that we should be feeling

This atmosphere, so expertly designed by Role Model, makes everyone feel so enraptured by his show. He does a great job at stage lighting and direction, bathing the stage with these moody red lights for ‘Slut Era Interlude’ (followed by the show’s most cathartic high note) and a nostalgic yet euphoric purple and gold for ‘Slipfast’. Each song is accompanied by a colour and glow that is perfectly designed to emulate what it is that we should be feeling, and it’s all done in a way that feels genuine, not forced. With that, the absence of light is also an excellent tool that Role Model uses. When he sings the painfully intimate ‘Something, Somehow, Someday’, he sits with his guitar and notebook in the middle of a direct spotlight, covering the entire venue in darkness except for him. It brings out the emotion and candour of the song in a way that highlights himand his words only.

At this point, the crowd was already aching with anticipation and excitement – with audible whispers of “who is going to be Sally tonight?”

Between all his twangy quips (“How we all feelin’ tonight?”) and inside jokes (“I’m Benson Boone, thank you for coming to my show), the final highlight of the show is most certainly ‘Sally, When The Wine Runs Out’. Originally starting as a way to bring out fans who were deemed to be the most electric in the audience, this tradition slowly evolved its way to become celebrity cameos as well – Role Model has brought out the likes of Natalie Portman, Kate Hudson, Troye Sivan, Olivia Rodrigo and Charli xcx to accompany him for this final chapter of his performance. And London night 2 did not disappoint, with Niall Horan taking the stage, casually singing along and dancing to the song itself, dressed in laidback jeans and a red party cup in hand. At this point, with Niall’s achingly satisfying cameo, it was impossible to hear anything else but screams and fan eruption – all brought on by Role Model understanding his audience, and what it is that they want, down to the tiniest detail.

By the time ‘Deeply Still In Love’ wraps up as the last song of the show, there’s no denying that Role Model knows exactly how to send a crowd home buzzing. His final performance is inexplicably engaging – he’s an expert at feeding on audience energy, and lashing it right back by laughing along with their excitement. His rough-edged charm is palpable. Between the cameos, the colours, the inside jokes and the laid-back unseriousness of it all, Role Model can truly craft a space with connection at its core.

Words and photos: Christopher Tang, no use without permission.

M/X at Paint by Numbers review: performance, theatre, and a hell of a lot of fun

Thekla Top Deck, Bristol, 6th December 2025

Regardless of their Saturday afternoon slot, the top deck filled out quickly with people of all kinds to see what the Bristol punks in M/X have to offer. Having seen them a few times now, I know everyone is in for a good time.

Starting with “Pavlov”, the audience is immediately engulfed by the performance on stage. The crowd is feeling somewhat shy, but this quickly resolved itself. It was clear from the get-go that this powerhouse provides a soundtrack for the misfits; a space in which we’re not only seen, but accepted, and frankly considered the coolest people in the room. With catchy lyrics encompassing topics such as the queer experience, the philosophical and romanticism of even the smallest parts of life, and a level of anger toward society reminiscent of the ever-popular Skins-era – all mixed over bass-heavy riffs and funky drums, the trio know how to put on a show that gets people moving, not just physically, but internally.

The very first time I saw M/X perform years ago, I fell in love with their theatrical performance full of emotion and passion. That same sentiment remained true, if not grew more powerful, with each performance I had the privilege to witness. They end their set with fan favourite “No Such Thing” – once again proving their relevance and dedication to the scene. The art of performance is just as important as evocative songwriting for acts like M/X with the likes of IDLES, Soft Play and Kid Kapichi; and M/X consist of three folks with an awkward charm that blends performance, theatre, engaging expressions of identity politics and just a hell lot of fun, guaranteeing this will not be the last we see of this Bristol powerhouse.

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

The Lilacs live review: fun refuge on a rainy night

O2 Academy, Oxford 14th November 2025

The Lilacs are a band associated with festivals and tents, often seen providing the soundtrack for much-needed refuge from the scorching summer sun. And for a similar reason, the crowd is grateful for their show in Oxford tonight. But rather than being sat in a sunny field taking in the music, everyone is dripping and wet, courtesy of Storm Claudia. Once inside the O2 Academy, however, soaked-through coats are taken off, revealing a myriad of band tees representing The Lilacs and other bands of their ilk, including The K’s, Oasis, Pale Waves, and everyone in between.

And although the weather is completely and utterly miserable, the atmosphere inside is that of a mid-season festival. From the moment the Wigan band step on stage, arms are flying, people are dancing, and the crowd is thrilled. It doesn’t matter to them that the mixing is slightly off or that the band occasionally fall out of tempo. Or, indeed, that more often than not, Ollie Angelsea’s vocals land so hard that he seems to be shouting the lyrics more than singing them. The crowd is there to have fun and forget the rain for the evening, and that’s precisely what they’re going to do.

But despite their glee, The Lilacs fail to fully bounce off the expectant spark in the crowd.

Some songs, like the easygoing ‘Sticky Dancefloors’ and the anthemic ‘Where’ve You Been Hiding’, evoke raucous singalongs of both their lyrics and their riffs, while others, like the newly-released ‘You’re Not That Daft’, are met with scattered applause and the nodding of heads. On stage, the band seem to be having the time of their lives, particularly when, as if by magic, a crate of beer appears on stage. Following guitarist Sam Birchall’s cancer diagnosis earlier this year, the sheer joy the band radiate on stage make the show feel all the more poignant.

But despite their glee, The Lilacs fail to fully bounce off the expectant spark in the crowd. Rather than inciting singalongs or dancing or indulging in some form of mild chaos, they instead beg for more applause after each track, straddling the line between exuberant confidence and arrogance.

A mid-set acoustic performance by Angelsea slows the set down, which includes B-side ‘When the Happy Hour Ends’. Soon enough, the rest of the band return to the stage and launch into ‘Something or Nothing’ and ‘Calling it a Night’.

It’s a welcome distraction from the weather and everyday life, and it’s a cathartic way to let loose on a Friday evening

“This is our last song,” they preface before playing ‘The 395 (To Forever)’, and duly making their way off stage. A battlecry of “Up The Lilacs!” bring them back out, while Angelsea declares, “Cancel your taxis, we’ve got a few more left!”. ‘Grace’ has some whipping out a bucket hat in line with its chorus “There you were at the bus stop, just sat / With your long blonde hair and a bucket hat”, while their debut single ‘Vicarage Road’ evokes the loudest singalong of the night. With one final cry and one final cheer, the lights dim, and they leave the stage for good. The lights turn on, the crowd turns to go, and the stifling air in the venue is replaced by gusty, wet wind.

Overall, it’s a fun show – it’s a welcome distraction from the weather and everyday life, and it’s a cathartic way to let loose on a Friday evening. After years of experience, the band’s stage presence has grown, and the efforts show. However, the shortcomings in other areas are noticeable, whether it be the volume and the mixing, Angelsea’s vocal delivery, the occasional slipping of tempo, or their slight arrogance on stage. It’s a fun evening, however, and the strength of their tracks more than makes up for it.

Words and images: Sophie Flint Vázquez

Pale Waves’ Oxford show proves they’re at the top of their game

O2 Academy, Oxford 15th October 2025

Up until their last album cycle, there has always been some dissonance between Pale Waves’ image and their sound. While their charcoal eyeliner and fishnets image promised 70s trad-goth, listening to a few minutes of their music reveals they sound nothing like that; it’s instead peppered with sparkling synths and catchy pop hooks – much more The 1975 than Siouxie and the Banshees. But the release of their fourth album, Smitten (2024), changed that. Gone were the pretences of Pale Waves trying to be a band they weren’t. While the lace and jet-black hair dye remained, Smitten added a dash of glam and sparkle to the Pale Waves mix. All of a sudden, they no longer felt like a band having a mild identity crisis, but rather one that had found precisely who they were.

New tracks, like ‘Perfume’ and ‘Glasgow’, make an appearance, as do old favourites like ‘Television Romance’ and ‘Red’

Seeing them live on the Still Smitten tour confirms this. Their show in Oxford is Pale Waves at their best, with newfound, dazzling confidence emanating from them at all times. Lead singer Heather Baron-Gracie struts on stage, clad in a leopard-print fur coat, looking (and sounding) like a glammed-up Dolores O’Riordan. The influence is glaringly apparent, but she plays the part so well that it hardly matters. The sole exception to this is the mid-set cover of ‘Zombie’ and accompanying O’Riordan admiration-speech, which momentarily tip the scale from admiration to pastiche.

Despite this, for the rest of the gig, they shine, making the show undoubtedly their own. New tracks, like ‘Perfume’ and ‘Glasgow’, make an appearance, as do old favourites like ‘Television Romance’ and ‘Red’. And with their recent embrace of all things glitz and glam, even their ‘heavier’ tracks, like ‘You’re So Vain’ or ‘Lies’, get a coat of sparkling, shimmering paint. Equally, twinkling synths tie each song together, making it feel less like a collection of songs played live and more like one continuous composition. Even the stage gets a makeover, with chandelier lamp props reflecting dazzling jewel tones from the venue’s lights.

It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, shared by both the couple and everyone else in the room

The band, as always, is magnetic. Baron-Gracie has mastered her stage presence, expertly combining crowd-pleasing fan interactions with engaging with her fellow bandmates, occasionally taking a moment to strut, twirl, or act out a lyric. When she drapes a lesbian pride flag around her shoulders, the crowd roars in response – she has them in the palm of her hand and she knows it.

Above all else, there is a sense of camaraderie and support in the venue. With non-binary Ciára Doran at the drums and Baron-Gracie, proudly gay, at the helm, they have created a safe space for queer fans. And nothing demonstrates this safe space better than their live shows. When Baron-Gracie asks “Who here is a lesbian?”, a loving roar erupts, followed by a chorus of cheers and whoops. There is even a pause in the show to congratulate a couple who gets engaged a few rows from the front. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, shared by both the couple and everyone else in the room.

An encore of ‘She’s My Religion’ and ‘Jealousy’ brought one by effusive cheers of “One more song!” brings the show to an electric close. The crowd, jumping and swaying from side to side, is transfixed, as the band give it their all for two final songs.

It’s a great show, and a testament to how far they’ve come. Over four albums and years of performing, Pale Waves have mastered their craft, and along with it, their sound. They might occasionally overrely on their influences, but the joyous atmosphere they create at their gigs is second to none. So if you want a fun dance, your spirits raised, and a brilliant performance, there’s nowhere better to go than a Pale Waves show.

Words and images: Sophie Flint Vázquez

Taylor Swift’s The Life of a Showgirl review: a tired encore to her career thus far

The Life of a Showgirl was meant to be a fresh start for Taylor Swift. Following a string of melancholic releases (folklore and evermore, both 2020; Midnights, 2022; and The Tortured Poets Department, 2024), Showgirl promised to usher in a new era of fun, upbeat pop. And in many ways, Showgirl does turn a new leaf – it’s the first album with NFL superstar (and now fiancé) Travis Kelce as her muse, and it’s her most upbeat record in years. At the same time, it’s also a sharp nosedive in quality.

The return of 1989 collaborators and producers Max Martin and Shellback seemed to guarantee a return to the bombastic pop hits that first brought her fame to unprecedented heights a decade ago. For the fans who had grown tired of her low-spirited (and sometimes bloated) acoustic pop, the promise of a concise, panache-filled album felt like a return to form. But rather than being a spectacle of colour and sound, Showgirl plays like a tired encore to her career thus far.

Showgirl is also peppered with luxury brands and places that cheapen its supposed glamour

Lyrically, this is her weakest work yet, as she blunders her way through crass sexual references, verbose outbursts, and outdated internet slang. Make no mistake, Swift is having good sex, and now she’s shouting about it from the rooftops. But while her protégée, Sabrina Carpenter, has built her image off of double entendres and cheek (an image that works remarkably well for Carpenter), when Swift does it, there’s no playfulness involved. Instead, it comes across as forceful rather than liberated. This problem is particularly noticeable on mid-album stinker, ‘Wood’. Listeners do not need to be privy to Kelce’s “New Heights of manhood” (a reference to his podcast, New Heights, as well as, well, something else), his “hard rock”, or, indeed, to the fact that Swift has been “(ah!)matised” by his “wood”. Even songs that aren’t about Kelce have far too many sex-adjacent terms: “I pay the checks first because my dick’s bigger,” she sings on ‘Father Figure’ or “it’s kind of making me wet”, she moans on ‘Actually Romantic’.

Crass innuendos aside, Showgirl is also peppered with luxury brands and places that cheapen its supposed glamour: “Balenci shades” (‘Wi$h Li$t’), a “Jag” (‘Father Figure’), and the upscale Plaza Athénée hotel in Paris (‘Elizabeth Taylor’) all make an appearance. Given how relentlessly Swift has been criticised online for her wealth since becoming a billionaire in 2023, constant references to it only reinforce claims that she’s out of touch. For an album titled The Life of a Showgirl, the flaunting of brands feels less like spectacle and more like product placement.

There are even more lyrical missteps on the album. ‘The Fate of Ophelia’ misrepresents Hamlet’s Ophelia as a damsel-in-distress who committed suicide because she failed to find the right man (enter Kelce, miraculously saving her from the same fate!). Elsewhere, ‘Actually Romantic’ is a pointlessly vindictive dig at pop star Charli xcx in response to her 2024 track, ‘Sympathy is a Knife’. But while ‘Sympathy’ (rumoured to be about Swift) puts her on an unreachable pedestal (“I couldn’t even be her if I tried”), ‘Actually Romantic’ is nothing but saccharine-coated spite: “I heard you called me ‘Boring Barbie’ when the coke’s got you brave”. Worse still, the song isn’t good enough to justify her infantile jabs.

Showgirl’s biggest pitfall isn’t that it’s bad; it’s just dull

Sonically, Max Martin and Shellback’s production does nothing to sustain the lyrics. ‘Opalite’ is a Kidz Bop track waiting to happen, the dullness of ‘Eldest Daughter’ does not justify its four-minute runtime, and ‘Honey’ is so bland it barely registers. Ironically, the album sounds its best on the acoustic versions she released digitally. When the production is stripped away, the bridge of ‘Elizabeth Taylor’ reveals full-bodied vocals and newfound dynamism. While the lyrics to ‘Ruin the Friendship’ remain clunky, the piano accompaniment fits the song better than the original’s synths.

Most, if not all, of the tracks on Showgirl sample, or at least are heavily inspired by, greater songs. ‘Wood’ seems to have been written over The Jackson 5’s ‘I Want You Back’, ‘Actually Romantic’ heavily echoes ‘Where Is My Mind?’ by Pixies, and ‘Father Figure’ samples George Michael’s track of the same name (interestingly, it is the only one that actually credits the original songwriter).

Ultimately, however, Showgirl’s biggest pitfall isn’t that it’s bad; it’s just dull. The Sabrina Carpenter feature on the title track hinted at the fun she emphasised in her promotional interviews, but Carpenter’s talents are woefully underused. The resulting track is neither good nor bad, it’s simply… there (that is, unless you choose to listen to the lyrics, in which case, be warned: she rhymes ‘Kitty’, ‘pretty’, ‘witty’, and ‘legitly’ in the first verse alone).

The album’s saving graces are ‘The Fate of Ophelia’ and ‘Elizabeth Taylor’. While ‘Ophelia’ sounds destined for shopping centre soundtracks, it delivers fairly inoffensive and somewhat catchy pop beats. Equally, the plunge into the choruses on ‘Elizabeth Taylor’ adds a dash of the theatricality the album promised, even if the song fails to live up to the grandeur of its subject.

Despite the plummet in quality, it takes less than one complete listen of the album to gather that Swift is, if nothing else, happy. So while Showgirl might end up a blemish on her discography, it might simply signal that she’s too engrossed with other things to care about the quality of her music right now. And if her only preoccupation right now is Travis Kelce’s ‘wood’, then so be it. Whether this is the beginning of the end of Swift’s reign, only future albums will tell.