1,438 IDLEWILD, Zoe Graham, Oxford O2 Academy, Tuesday 14th April 2026

 

Lately it seems that whenever Celtic windswept indie survivors Idlewild crop up on my “Dance Card”, it’s usually attached to some event or other, or it’s eventful…! We’d caught them on their initial tour of best-for-ages new album, the eponymous “Idlewild”, last October in Bristol (gig 1,410), the occasion then being Rachel’s and my 20^th Wedding Anniversary (also the 20^th anniversary of our seeing them 3 times during our US West Coast honeymoon!). So when they announced a Spring 2026 10 date second leg of said tour scooping up gigs in hitherto unvisited towns and cities, what would that coincide with? Why, Rachel’s birthday of course! It’s actually tomorrow (15^th), but my dear lady wife tends to make a week of it, so…

An eventful evening started late; returning from the wilds of Oxfordshire after the daughter’s dance lesson and a painful attempt to fuel the car in Sainsburys, we set off late after dropping her off at grandmas, then endured a 20 minute wait to clear 4-way traffic roadworks! Bah! No surprise then that the Cowley Tesco car park was full on our arrival, but we jumped into a side street spot and hit the surprisingly quiet venue at ¼ to 8, being stopped for carrying pens into the venue (!!) but still snagging a near-front spot, house right. Support Zoe Graham was on prompt at 8; a slightly built girl with a make-up smear on the bridge of her nose which made her look vaguely Bajoran (!), she and her band delivered a very 80’s MTV/ FM So-Cal rock radio sounding set which at best had the expansive lazy shimmer of War On Drugs (“Shift This Feeling”), delved into more angular funk based stuff (“Evelin”) but overall was eminently listenable and header-edged than the wispy pop vignettes we’d heard from her previously. Sonically, it felt like she had designs to be a female Sam Fender, but she was an engaging and likeable presence, chatting about her mum playing Fanny Craddock in a video, and offering the initially-recalcitrant Oxford crowd a free personality test before best-of-set closer, the hooky manifesto number “Divine Female Energy”.

The place filled up but was still a couple of hundred below capacity (t’uh, Oxford…), but those present were buoyant and anticipatory, giving Idlewild a rowdy reception on their arrival at 5 past 9 following a crooner intro track. And they responded in kind; immediately into the pacy “You Held The World In Your Arms” and the anthemic blare of excellent newie “Like I Had Before”. Roddy, humble and understated as ever, then greeted the crowd, promising to, “pull up some old songs for you,” proving true to his word with a frantically groovy “When I Argue I See Shapes”, the growling opening of “Interview Music” building to a crescendo for an unexpected early highlight, then the moody build and call-and-response hook of “Roseability”, Roddy taking to the stage wings to allow his guitarists to provide the jumping jack visual focus, Rod Jones and Allan Stewart throwing shapes and hopping on and off the monitors with kinetic enthusiasm. Great start! 

Idlewild fall within the genre of 90’s/ 00s indie/ alt-rock, albeit differentiated from their contemporaries by their windswept, atmospheric sonic approach, evoking mountainous landscape vistas, and Roddy’s studiously oblique, oft-looping, contradictory and almost poetic lyricism (also resulting in some fairly long song titles!). On a good night, what they also are, however, is a magnificently kinetic and dynamic “live” band, much more coherent than the young bucks I first saw in 1998 (gig 369, an era which the NME famously described as sounding, “like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs”) yet still retaining that thrilling, propulsive edge “live”. This was definitely one of those nights; following this brilliant opening salvo, the circular synth pattern and melancholy build of “Ends With Sunrise” was followed by the elegiac yet anthemic “Love Steals Us From Loneliness”, giving us a welcome breather; Roddy reminisced about their first Oxford gig (“the Point in 1998; it was 120 degrees!”) before the inclusive and soaring “American English”, and the plaintive piano intro to “El Capitan” led into a widescreen and soaring version. Then, however, it all got a bit tricky… 

A couple of blokes who had been shouting at guitarist Allan then decided to continue a loud conversation through “Capitan”, prompting Rachel to turn and shout, “will you SHUT the FUCK UP!!” into their bemused faces. After a second scolding from my incensed wife, I swapped places with her before it escalated, and in all honesty never heard another peep out of them! And the band played on; a thrillingly savage and visceral double of “Modern Way” and “Film For The Future” ended the set proper, then a 3 song encore capped with the tempo changing and sculpted “Remote Part” ended an outstanding performance, the band taking deserved bows. A quick list, then a magical mystery tour journey home which was still ½ hour shorter than the outward trip, daughter collected and home for 11.40. So, an “event”-ful evening, but the brilliant Idlewild performance will be our overarching memory. Another happy (almost) birthday gig for Rachel!

1,437 TINY STILLS, Supp. Cheerbleederz, Top Shortage, Bristol Exchange Basement, Friday 10th April 2026

 

I’ve been waiting for this one for a while, actually… I’d picked up on LA’s Tiny Stills back in 2020, those dark days of Covid lockdown being enlivened by a few choice recommendations from the “Revolt Into Style” facebook new music page… and most notably, the bright, snappy indie-powerpop bounce of Tiny Stills’ effervescent “Craigslist Bed”, which ultimately topped my singles selection for that year and featured prominently on my 2020 “Best of” CD. I’d been keeping track of the band ever since and hoping they’d manage to make it across the pond, so I booked for the Bristol show immediately when they finally did put together a short UK run, dual-headlining with apparent kindred spirits in London’s Cheerbleederz. 

An economy run down a sunny M4 got me parked in my “loading” spot opposite the venue at 7.30; wandered downstairs, avoiding the emo kids who were queueing for the band in the main room, and ran into Bristol gig friend Louise down the front! A catch up with her and Alan, a fellow veteran gig-goer, passed the time until openers Top Shortage at 8. Initially easing in with opener “Toi”, an eerie slow burner building to a more abrasive howling guitar outro and sung in French by imposing trans vocalist Noa Laqueche, they then delved into more combative and tension-filled post-punk jangle, immediately recalling the likes of The Fall and particularly Au Pairs in both sonic template and in-your-face delivery. “Welcome to the angry part of the set; I’ve got a lot of feelings and I’m expressing them onstage!” announced Noa before the confrontational, almost Crass-like anti-transphobe paean of “Mirror”, again dominated by Noa’s impassioned vocal. Indeed, the later, tempo-changing set highlight “Susan Stryker” saw her abandon the stage altogether and properly get in the faces of the assembled. A band with a lot to say, then, and a dynamic and determined but very articulate and listenable way of saying it…

A quick loo break before I grabbed my spot again for Tiny Stills, the trio taking the stage at 8.45, with diminutive yet sparkling vocalist Kailynn West tentatively asking, “shall we rock?” before announcing the band’s first Bristol date with “Schadenfreude”, an ebullient slab of doo-wop inflected pop punk, apparently, “about hating people!” The wide-eyed, if slightly raw and ragged, bounce of “Craigslist Bed” and the Pixies/ grunge-lite Letters To Cleo-esque “Not Dead Yet” followed in short order to an enthusiastic reception (myself already throwing shapes down the front), low-slung bassist Chris Clark announcing at its’ conclusion, “Bristol’s the best city we’ve been to yet!” 

Tiny Stills’ self-professed modus operandi is apparently to deliver “Pop Songs For Sentimental Punks”, and for all their upbeat chiming guitars, C86-esque innocent vocal deliveries and gushing enthusiasm, there’s an darker and more serious lyrical edge to Tiny Stills work. “This song’s about divorce,” was an introduction used on more than one occasion, and the strident shouted hook of “We Really Felt Something” was preceded by a lengthy preamble from Kailynn about finding hope and joy in these dark times. Then, following a grungier “Everything Is Going Great”, during which 2 Cheerbleederz joined on backing vocals, the set took a more introspective turn to finish; Kailynn advised us that Avery, their intended 4^th member, was struggling with food poisoning in London which forced a rethink of their set, with the plaintive strumalong of “Bait And Switch” and a couple of solo Kailynn numbers in the emotionally charged “Space X” and “Delete All Future Events” rounding off a fine set, both of the last numbers again preceded by a lengthy exploration of their difficult and highly personal subject matter, but again flipping the narrative to focus on hope.

I took a break outside afterwards, returning for part of Cheerbleederz set; I liked “Cute As Hell”, a dumb but enjoyable Ramones-esque pop punk romp from this distaff power trio, but could have done without their cover of Cher’s cheesy 80’s hit “Believe”. Perhaps if I caught them on a different day I’d have enjoyed them more (although chances for that may be scarce in the near future, one of the band alluding to their needing to take a “pregnant pause”…!), but after the in-your-face polemic of the openers and the bouncy yet thought-provoking Tiny Stills, they seemed a little, well, insubstantial really… So I grabbed a chat with an enthusiastic Kailynn and got my list signed before making an early exit, home for 11. Well worth the wait for Tiny Stills, then, a band who revealed some hidden lyrical depths tonight to go with the Cleos-esque powerpop. Nice one folks!