Luvcat @ Colony Room Green

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green (Barnaby Fairley)

Clad in her signature leopard-print and accompanied only by guitarist Archie Faulks and pianist Tom Fripp, with stripped-back arrangements lending the evening an almost parlour-room intimacy, Howarth delivers four songs threaded together by theatrical storytelling, deadpan humour and romantic chaos. It feels less like a showcase and more like being let into someone’s fever dream.

The night opens with an introduction to the mythology of Luvcat itself. Speaking directly to the room, Howarth traces her journey from waitressing in Liverpool and disastrous romances to relocating to London with a runaway bride friend and finding herself immersed in South London’s underground music scene. Sitting on the piano, she recounts nights in mould-ridden flats, haunted chandeliers (later revealed to be an upstairs washing machine) and chance encounters that would eventually shape the world around Lovebites, a companion to last year’s debut LP Vicious Delicious.

If the EP is billed as a collection of murder ballads, tonight reveals how deeply autobiographical its darkness really is.

Howarth frames each song with winding, cinematic anecdotes, read from a diary, that blur memory and folklore. Silent Killer lands as the emotional centrepiece of the set, introduced through an alarming true story about carbon monoxide poisoning in a Camden flat shared with bandmates and friends. Recalling how a faint late-night alarm likely saved lives, she reframes the experience into a metaphor for destructive love: invisible, intoxicating and quietly fatal.

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green (Kalpesh Patel)

Performed in the present tense of confession, Silent Killer blooms into gothic melodrama. Sparse piano and guitar leave room for Howarth’s theatrical phrasing as she sings of love as poison, violence and devotion wrapped into one dangerous force. The humour remains — she jokes that carbon monoxide did not kill them, but love nearly did — yet the unease underneath never disappears.

There is a striking looseness to the performance. Howarth frequently breaks songs with anecdotes, laughs at herself, or slips into side observations that make the evening feel wonderfully unfiltered. One moment she is describing South London gig culture and sleeping in leopard-print dresses; the next she is casually recounting nearly dying in a gas leak.

That tension between glamour and morbidity defines Lovebites.

Before Electric Chair, Howarth introduces the track as an apology letter disguised as a murder ballad — a guilty plea for romantic wrongdoing. The song, written after falling for someone else while touring America, imagines punishment as melodrama: electrocution in luxury lingerie and burial in Paris’ Père Lachaise cemetery. She recounts how collaborator Pete Doherty organically became part of the track after touring together, wandering onstage during performances to contribute improvised lyrics before eventually recording his contribution remotely.

Even stripped of the EP’s studio theatrics, Electric Chair retains a smoky theatricality. Sitting atop the piano, Howarth delivers the song like a tragic heroine midway through an elaborate confession, half laughing at herself while never quite undercutting the emotional sincerity beneath the noir humour.

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green (Barnaby Fairley)

The evening closes with He’s My Man, arguably the track that changed everything for Luvcat. Howarth explains how industry figures initially dismissed it as too strange, sinister and slow before audiences embraced its unsettling romanticism. Inspired partly by a ghost story told by her father and expanded into a tale of obsessive devotion and domestic menace, the song thrives in this intimate setting.

Its anniversary version features punk poet John Cooper Clarke, whom Howarth affectionately describes phoning on his landline while he made dinner for his grandchildren and researching poisoning symptoms for his lyrical contribution. “I wanted him to play my dead husband. He wasn’t too flattered but kindly agreed” she shares. Tonight, without the guest feature, the song becomes even more unnerving — a twisted lullaby of dependency, devotion and creeping dread.

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green (Barnaby Fairley)

Throughout the set, Howarth repeatedly references formative influences, from Nick Cave and Kylie Minogue to the shadowy romanticism of Tom Waits, but what stands out most is how singular her world already feels. Gothic storytelling, sardonic humour, tenderness and theatrical absurdity coexist naturally rather than feeling curated. And she exudes an infectious charm that swells throughout tonight’s brief set.

At Colony Room Green, Lovebites does not arrive as a polished industry showcase. It feels alive, intimate and gloriously odd — murder ballads whispered from the piano lid while we lean in close to listen, eraptured.

After the performance, I briefly catch up with Howarth to talk about what comes next. Having spent the last year playing more than 100 shows and touring extensively for the first time, she explains that album two is already beginning to move away from the Liverpool-and-London mythology that shaped her earlier material.

“My first album was littered with Liverpudlian references and moving to London and running away to Paris occasionally. And the next album can’t possibly be about that, because I’ve been on tour for 101 shows, I’ve barely been home and I’ve been experiencing America for the first time, which is really something” she says.

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green

Luvcat @ Colony Room Green (Barnaby Fairley)

The next chapter, she hints, leans into the strange glamour and instability of sudden success. “Suddenly I have a fridge full of champagne and a four-poster bed,” she laughs. “I feel like a lucky little lady, and I want to talk about that in a cheeky way and embrace it. But I’m also aware it’s fickle and fragile. There’s this battle of wondering whether America would send me mad if I stayed there too long.”

With plans to record the follow-up just off Sunset Boulevard between summer festival appearances, Howarth seems eager to keep momentum building. “I don’t want to fuck around,” she says with a grin. “I want to get it out as quickly as possible. Keep the train going, so the fans don’t suffer.”

Live review and interview with Luvcat @ Colony Room Green, London by Kalpesh Patel on 20th May 2026. Photography by Barnaby Fairley. Additional photos by Kalpesh Patel.

Luvcat Dazzles At KOKO: Theatrical Noir, Liverpudlian Charm And A Dash Of Red Wine Magic

LØLØ @ Electric Ballroom

LØLØ @ Electric Ballroom (Kalpesh Patel)

Following support slots from Sydney Sherrill and 22-year-old Texan artist Ella Red, Toronto-born singer-songwriter Lauren Mandel — better known as LØLØ — transforms the Electric Ballroom into a full-blown pop-punk therapy session packed with emotional confessionals, explosive singalongs and enough confetti to coat half of Camden.

The theme for the evening is established before Mandel even appears. Wizard Of Oz-esque fairytale music drifts through the PA while LØLØ’s band emerge in silhouette. Then comes the first of several pre-recorded “diary entries” that soundtrack the evening: “Dear diary, today is May 7th and I’m in London. It’s the biggest show on the tour and London always has the loudest crowds.”

Seconds later, Mandel storms onstage and straight into the devil wears converse, opening the set with pure chaotic energy. The audience scream every word back immediately while confetti cannons erupt following the song’s bridge, showering the crowd in white paper bursts.

“Hellooooooo Londaaaaaan!” she screams as 007 crashes in, Mandel pacing from side to side of the stage before climbing the risers positioned at either end to whip up the crowd further. “I’m LØLØ and I’d like to officially welcome you to: god forbid a girl goes onboard tour,” she beams before launching into god forbid a girl spits out her feelings!. “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight. On my last tour, London was the best show and I can already tell that this is gonna be the best show, am I right?”

The new album forms the backbone of the night, but what elevates the performance beyond standard pop-punk theatrics is Mandel’s openness. Between songs, she repeatedly returns to the diary motif, framing the evening as one giant emotional overshare shared between artist and audience.

“This is all especially really crazy because, I used to write in a diary all the time and then I’d rip it up into little pieces because I was so scared of anybody learning or knowing my innermost, deepest, darkest thoughts,” she explains. “And now, I tell everybody my most innermost, deepest, darkest thoughts, thanks to you guys.”

“Writing this album was a very messy, very chaotic, all over the place, emotional. So, I want tonight to be a celebration of that messiness, ok? Let’s get messy London!”

That messy energy fuels THE FLOOR IS LAVA!! before the bubblegum bounce of debbie downer turns the Ballroom into a full-scale pogo party. Mid-song, Mandel suddenly pauses with a revelation: “I just realised something, you can’t have a cheerleading team without pom-poms and a captain,” before inviting a fan onstage to fill the role.

The diary entries continue throughout the night, adding humour and theatricality between songs. Before me with no shirt on, LØLØ temporarily disappears backstage while another pre-recorded monologue plays overhead. “I sent him a picture of me with no shirt on. He still hasn’t replied and it’s been like, 27 seconds,” her voice announces dramatically. Returning with an acoustic guitar, she asks the audience: “London, has anyone here sent a sexy picture before?” before delivering the vulnerable ballad to a sea of raised phone lights.

Elsewhere, the punisher lands with arena-sized ambition while faceplant cleverly incorporates lyrics from The Killers’ Mr. Brightside after an orchestral tease of Over The Rainbow plays across the venue. “I wrote this about somebody I was obsessed with who also made me very mentally ill, even more than I already am, which says a lot,” she jokes ahead of u turn me on (but u give me depression), the audience roaring in appreciation at the brutally honest introduction.

Humour remains one of Mandel’s strongest weapons. Introducing 2 of us, she laughs: “So I once got my heart broken by a man, and he fit into tighter jeans than me! How is that fair?” while omg arrives as one of the set’s punchiest moments. At one point, the 28-year-old attempts an English accent to notably muted responses from the crowd, quickly abandoning the bit before grinning: “London, you really have a special place in my heart because you really fucking show up for me! And that’s why the London show gets confetti.”

“How are you guys liking the album so far?” she later asks. “I know I didn’t give you much time to learn it, I mean it’s only two weeks old. So thank you for already knowing some of the words, or all of the words for some of you.”

One of the evening’s emotional peaks arrives with lobotomy & u. “It’s about being so heartbroken that you wish that you could literally go to the doctor and get your brain completely wiped,” she explains, encouraging the audience to sway their phone lights as the room glows softly around her. Then comes a sharp tonal shift as the drum intro to Nirvana’s Scentless Apprentice barrels into 2021 fan favourite death wish for what LØLØ calls the “OG fans”.

“I consider myself to be one of the queens of delu-lu,” she jokes before introducing delusional darling. “Sometimes it’s just easier, and a lot more fun, and this song is about ignoring red flags … no … ignoring every red flag that there ever was.” Support act Ella Red joins her onstage for the track, both singers throwing choreographed hair tosses around the stage. “She’s so cute, and so scary, right?” Mandel laughs afterwards.

LØLØ @ Electric Ballroom

LØLØ @ Electric Ballroom (Kalpesh Patel)

The crowd are then tasked with choosing between hurt less and Lonely & Pathetic, screaming for their preferred choice until hurt less narrowly wins out. DON’T! transforms the Ballroom into a spoken-word chant-along before dumbest girl in the world closes the main set in chaotic fashion, streamers exploding during the guitar solo and promptly getting tangled in the venue lighting rig overhead. “I guess that wasn’t a good idea?” Mandel later shrugs.

Returning alone for the encore following another diary-entry interlude, she strips things back for an acoustic performance of wish i was a robot, seamlessly weaving Radiohead’s Creep into the arrangement. “Is it finally time, that moment we’ve all been waiting for, to sing about our exes burning in hell?” she teases before exploding into hot girls in hell. The audience scream every lyric back with near-religious intensity as the track closes the night in triumphant fashion.

For an artist whose songs revolve around anxiety, heartbreak and emotional spiralling, LØLØ somehow turns vulnerability into something joyous. Tonight at Camden’s Electric Ballroom, Lauren Mandel proves herself far more than another viral pop-punk voice, delivering a performance bursting with charisma, honesty and genuine connection. Equal parts catharsis, comedy and communal singalong, this feels like the kind of show fans will one day brag about witnessing before the rooms inevitably become much bigger.

Live review & photography of LØLØ @ Electric Ballroom, London by Kalpesh Patel on 7h May 2026.

Avril Lavigne’s Blistering Other Stage Appearance Is 22 Years Overdue At Glastonbury 2024

mgk @ The O2

mgk @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

It’s a rare pause in what is otherwise a relentlessly high-energy, often chaotic celebration of the artist formerly known as Machine Gun Kelly. And chaos is very much the point.

The scale of tonight’s production is clear from the outset. A towering faux Statue of Liberty dominates the stage, complete with a nose ring and an oversized cigarette clutched in her outstretched hand. As the opening bars of outlaw overture rumble through the arena, mgk emerges through the statue’s mouth, grabbing a guitar dangling from above. “London, let’s go! Are you ready for the best night of your fucking life!” he roars.

Flame boxes scattered around the criss-cross stage erupt as the band launches straight into starman, mgk bounding across the stage with microphone in hand before swapping seamlessly to guitar. It’s a pattern repeated all night: outfit changes, guitars appearing and disappearing, dancers weaving through the performance and bursts of pyro punctuating the spectacle.

“London, get on your feet, jump!” he demands — and the arena obliges instantly. “So this is what it looks like when you sell out The O2, huh?” he grins.

Musically, the show darts through the many eras of mgk’s career. Video interludes — featuring a tongue-in-cheek vlogger dissecting the different phases of Baker’s genre-jumping catalogue — provide breathers between segments.

A rap-heavy medley of maybe, Wild Boy and El Diablo reminds the crowd of his early hip-hop days, while Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker drives the band with thunderous precision throughout.

Travis Barker with mgk @ The O2

Travis Barker with mgk @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

Barker’s propulsive rhythms underpin much of the set, particularly during dont wait run fast, even when mgk briefly loses his place. “I’m so sorry, I fucked that up,” he laughs, before powering through the rest of the track as guitarists Sophie Lloyd and Justin “Jus” Lyons shred beside him while flames shoot skyward.

Justin "Jus" Lyons & Sophie Lloyd with mgk @ The O2

Justin "Jus" Lyons & Sophie Lloyd with mgk @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

“We’ve got a two-hour show for y’all tonight — that’s 38 songs. I need to see if those voices are ready!” Baker shouts before the rapid-fire medley arrives. The crowd clearly are.

The show frequently leans into the pop-punk era that transformed Baker’s career. Acoustic guitars frame the evolving lost americana-tinged arrangements scattered throughout the set, notably during starman that slips into large swathes of Third Eye Blind’s 1998 hit Semi‑Charmed Life — a playful nod that sends the crowd into a nostalgic singalong.

The Tickets To My Downfall portion of the show hits particularly hard.“To one of my favourite cities in the world, can I play this pink guitar” he asks, appearing behind a mic stand enclosed in an oversized prop cigarette, brandishing a his signature Schecter PT electric guitar as title track from the 2020 LP shifts from sparse slow-drive to beat-driven rousing. drunk face, bloody valentine and forget me too ignite huge reactions, with the latter featuring pre-recorded vocals from Halsey shimmering over the PA. Cigarettes are the theme throughout, the musician will undoubetdly face fines for smoking himself throughout the high-energy show.

mgk @ The O2

mgk @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

But it’s during bloody valentine, with fans invited on stage, that an excited audience member falls foul of the unique stage shape by stepping into a gap in the stage. The fan unhurt, mgk continues with the song before later gifting her a hat: “I wear this hat every fuckin’ day. My friend Icky made this hat for me, it’s special. It’s yours” he says placing the hat on her head.

“I like this view, but I think I’m gonna go over there,” mgk suddenly declares before diving off stage and sprinting through the arena floor toward the B-stage near the sound desk. From the smaller stage he strips things back with Glass House, rapping alongside the recorded voice of Naomi Wild. “This song is a song I wrote at one of my lowest times,” he tells the audience.

He soon pivots again, introducing new single times of my life with a heartfelt dedication: “I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life. This song is about nights like these, because I hope when you go home you’ll include tonight as one of the times of your life.”

In a spontaneous moment he segues into Fix You by Coldplay and Hey Jude by The Beatles, thousands of voices filling the arena. “We just decided to do that right before the show,” he shrugs. “Just wanted to show some love to a country that’s made some beautiful music that’s really lifted the spirit of my soul.”

Opening act Julia Wolf returns the to stage for a heartfelt cover of Goo Goo Dolls’ hit 1998 tune Iris, the pair rising above the stage on separate platforms. It’s an emotional high point before mgk cheekily follows it with treading water, which borrows heavily from the same chord progression.

Julia Wolf @ The O2

Julia Wolf @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

Then things swing wildly back to chaos. DAYWALKER arrives like a sonic sledgehammer before comedian Pete Davidson wanders on stage for roll the windows up. “Pete’s shooting a movie in your town,” mgk jokes. “He said he wants you to bother him, find his hotel and just stay outside and annoy him all day.”

“I’m in Mayfair, bitches!” Davidson grins.

Amid the spectacle, the most personal moment arrives during play this when i’m gone, as home videos of Baker’s daughter Casie fill the massive screen. “I miss when you were that old,” he says softly as a clip of her as a toddler appears. “This song is for those here with their loved ones, or anyone who’s ever loved something or someone.”

The mood doesn’t last long. During papercuts, his guitar spits sparks from the headstock as flames roar behind him — until the pyrotechnic briefly malfunctions. “It’s going wrong dude!” he laughs nervously before the effect finally dies out. “Hell yeah, if I’m gonna be burned alive I’d rather it be at this motherfuckin’ place.”

mgk @ The O2

mgk @ The O2 (Kalpesh Patel)

The final stretch keeps the crowd roaring: the country-leaning Lonely Road, featuring recorded vocals from Jelly Roll (“Sing my buddy Jelly’s verse” mgk asks), followed by cliché, sweet coraline and the closing anthem vampire diaries.

For an artist who has spent much of his career shifting identities — rapper, rocker, provocateur — tonight feels like a milestone. Selling out The O2 for the first time clearly matters to him. And despite the genre hopping, the chaos and the self-deprecating humour, the sense of triumph is unmistakable.

For mgk, Thursday night in London isn’t just another stop on a tour. It’s a moment he intends to remember — and judging by the roar inside The O2, so will everyone else in the room.

Live review & photography of mgk @ The O2 Arena, London by Kalpesh Patel on 5th March 2026.

Third Eye Blind Bring Chaos, Charm And Catharsis To London’s Islington Assembly Hall

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire (Kalpesh Patel)

They stroll on at 8:50pm — a casual twenty minutes past the billed time — six silhouettes against a low rumble of menacing guitars. Frontman Dave Grohl sports a new-on-the-scene Gibson RD Custom Ebony; alongside him are bassist Nate Mendel, guitarist Chris Shiflett, keyboardist Rami Jaffee, latest drummer Ilan Rubin and touring guitarist and Beck mainstay Jason Falkner. It feels both intimate and enormous at once.

“Are you fuckin’ ready? It’s gonna be a long night motherfuckers, you know that right?” Grohl smirks. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

They dive headlong into 1995 debut single This Is A Call and the Empire detonates. Every voice is raised, every word hurled back at the stage. There’s no easing in. All My Life follows with its menacing, one-chord spoken intro before exploding into cascading, headbanging chaos. Grohl paces side to side, hair flailing, urging the crowd to clap through an extended mid-song break as guitars and drums hammer with machine-gun precision. “Alright motherfuckers, you wanna dance?” he screams. We do. With everything we’ve got.

Crowd surfers begin their steady migration toward the barricade before the third song is done, ferried across a sea of hands and scooped away by security in the narrow pit. Times Like These offers brief uplift before Of All People provides the first taste of forthcoming twelfth LP Your Favorite Toy. It’s storming, less hook-driven than their radio mainstays, and over in a flash — a statement of intent rather than a concession to familiarity.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me just tell you, what a fucking joy it is for me to hear you people sing so fucking loud. I love it so much. We’re gonna sing some songs together,” Grohl gushes as The Pretender shimmers into life. Mid-song he quizzes the room: “Do you love rock ’n’ roll music? Do you want some rock ’n’ roll music? Let’s rock ’n’ roll!”

As La Dee Da rings out, he calls for “those old-school, deep-cut Foo Fighters motherfuckers.” They get their wish with a thunderous Stacked Actors, its gentle sway snapping into blood-curdling choruses, one of the night’s heaviest hitters. Every track tonight stretches beyond its recorded counterpart — extended breakdowns, pounding drum solos, indulgent guitar licks. This is a band revelling in looseness. Grohl is back to playing his Gibson Trini Lopez at some point, switching up colours that match different tunings.

“I gotta be honest,” Grohl begins as These Days unfurls. “This is what it felt like 30 fuckin’ years ago. And I’m so happy… if you hear me laughing in the middle of songs, it’s ’cause I’m so fuckin’ happy that we’re still here.” He grins: “This is our last song.” Eight songs deep. No one believes him.

Walk becomes a mass stomp-along. “We should just play here every night,” he suggests. “We’ll do a residency, for the rest of our fucking lives.” He references the old-school ticket-buying process for these shows. “That’s how you used to do it!”

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire (Kalpesh Patel)

To newcomers: “It amazes me that you got your asses off the couch and came down here to buy tickets without knowing what you were getting yourselves into… We’ve been a band for 30 years, we have a lot of fucking songs… some of you have to work tomorrow.” He pauses. “Just call in sick! Tell your boss your buddy Dave said: ‘it’s cool’. And then good luck finding another job!”

Band introductions follow. Mendel gets a nod to Sunny Day Real Estate. Former Wallflowers man Jaffee delivers a gloriously loose solo that Grohl frames as “side stage, dance tent, Reading 1992.” Falkner is hailed a “badass motherfucker,” filling in while Pat Smear recuperates from a broken leg.

Then: “This is my favourite number.” My Hero prompts a deafening singalong, Grohl surrendering the chorus to the crowd as he patrols the lip of the stage. Learn To Fly bounces with soft-pop exuberance before new LP title track Your Favorite Toy proves itself a future stadium titan.

No Son Of Mine folds into a cheeky nod to Motörhead’s Ace Of Spades, dedicated to Lemmy. Run arrives blistering and unrelenting. Rubin peels off into a solo. “I like to call that amuse bouche. It’s an amuse Shepherd’s Bouche,” Grohl quips. “When we do these smaller club gigs, I like it fuckin’ loose.”

They cool the temperature for Aurora, dedicated to the band’s late drummer Taylor Hawkins’ wife Alison, here with us in the audience tonight. Once a rarity, it now feels sacred — the Empire swaying in collective gratitude.

“Let’s play a fuckin’ rock ’n’ roll song, what d’ya say?” Grohl slurs, shifting gears from the heartfelt back to his usual dry wit. “Do you want a loud screaming a rock ’n’ roll song or do you want a pretty little love song?” he teases. The answer is White Limo, all guttural ferocity. Monkey Wrench and Hey, Johnny Park! keep the voltage dangerously high. “I’m contractually obligated to scream my fucking balls off every night,” he laughs. “Do you need me to teach you how to scream like a consummate professional?” Circle pits erupt as he conducts a mass howl.

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire

Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire (Kalpesh Patel)

“We’d like to do something… we haven’t done for 25 years.” A320, the deep cut from the 1998 Godzilla film soundtrack, rumbles into the room — a genuine holy-grail moment.

“Who’s got one more in ’em?” he asks before Best Of You detonates in unified catharsis.

A brief disappearance, then they return.

“For all the old-school motherfuckers, thank you for growing old with us. For all you youngbloods… welcome to the fam.” A young fan is lifted from the crowd and placed side-stage for the encore. “There’s probably somewhere safer for that person to sit.”

They close as they used to three decades ago: Exhausted grinding and raw before Everlong seals the night. “You know it’s the last one, it’s time to dance.”

As the final chords of Everlong fade and the band take their bows, this doesn’t feel like a novelty club show or a clever album-launch stunt — it feels necessary. In the tight confines of Shepherd’s Bush Empire, you see the glances, the grins, the split-second cues; you feel the floor shift under Monkey Wrench and hear individual voices cutting through the mass catharsis of Best Of You. Thirty years in, Foo Fighters don’t resemble a legacy act preserving history — they look like a band reanimating it, rediscovering the sweat, looseness and reckless joy that built this in the first place. If these guerrilla gigs are about reminding themselves who they are before the next inevitable stadium run, consider the message received — loudly.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s renewal. In a 2,000-capacity room, thirty years deep, Foo Fighters sound as vital — and as loud — as ever. “That was fucking awesome, thank you very much.”

Live review & photography of Foo Fighters @ O2 Shepherd’s Bush Empire, London by Kalpesh Patel on 25th February 2026.

Beck Is Transcendent With The BBC Concert Orchestra At The Royal Albert Hall

White Lies @ Roundhouse

White Lies @ Roundhouse (Kalpesh Patel)

They open delicately with All The Best from last year’s Night Light, Harry McVeigh’s husky vocal sitting right at the heart of the room. Midway through, the song is abruptly halted as the house lights rise and venue staff attend to a medical emergency in the crowd. McVeigh leans forward, concern cutting through the atmosphere. “Is everything ok down there?” he asks, waiting patiently until it’s safe to continue. “We’ll start that song again if that’s alright, it’s one of my favourites so it’d be a shame not to play it,” he offers warmly. When the band restart, the song’s soaring closing guitars feel even more cathartic, and the crowd’s response confirms it was worth the reset.

Jack Lawrence-Brown’s pounding drums then tear into Farewell To The Fairground, instantly lifting the tempo and the energy. The Roundhouse floor bounces as every word is screamed back at the stage. “London you know the words, I want to hear you sing them,” McVeigh urges, though the chant of “Keep on running, there’s no place like home” hardly needs prompting.

“It’s so good to be here, it’s such an honour to be here for two nights as well,” McVeigh tells the crowd. “Thank you for joining us on a Sunday, we are going to try and make tonight even better than last night.” With that, they launch into There Goes Our Love Again, its swirling electronics and Charles Cave’s relentless bassline anchoring the 2013 single as he disappears into the groove. New material slips effortlessly into the set. Bowen’s synths usher in Hurt My Heart, Cave’s bass once again prominent beneath McVeigh’s increasingly gravel-toned delivery. The track feels both fresh and familiar, highlighting how naturally Night Light sits alongside the band’s earlier work.

“It’s been 10 years this year since our fourth album Friends came out,” McVeigh reflects. “We’ve been reminiscing about a few of the songs off that record, choosing a few of our favourites.” Hold Back Your Love follows, its synths layered neatly over the rhythm section, McVeigh’s live vocal adding a deeper emotional pull than the studio version. The buoyant Is My Love Enough keeps the retro-tinged momentum going before Going Nowhere pulls the set firmly back into the present.

White Lies @ Roundhouse

White Lies @ Roundhouse (Kalpesh Patel)

The unmistakable synth line of Tokyo sparks recognition before McVeigh even sings a word, Cave’s signature basslines driving the Five standout forward. Time To Give arrives like an old friend, its haunting organ tones filling the room, before Juice jolts the energy back up.

“With the next song we’ve decided to go right back to the start,” McVeigh explains. “We’ve chosen a track from the first album that we haven’t played so much over the years so perhaps it will come as some surprise to some of you.”

“I think maybe we should dedicate this song to our oldest friend Ed Buller,” Cave adds, nodding to their debut producer as the stark beats and desert-dry guitar of The Price Of Love echo out, a rare and welcome deep cut.

I Don’t Want To Go To Mars represents As I Try Not To Fall Apart, before the Roundhouse erupts at the opening notes of Big TV. “London, get your hands in the air!” McVeigh commands, and the crowd obeys as Lawrence-Brown locks the tempo and McVeigh’s guitars soar. To Lose My Life turns the venue into a mass singalong, and Bigger Than Us brings the main set to a triumphant close.

The band barely keep the crowd waiting before returning. “Thank you so much, we’ve got a few more for you,” McVeigh smiles, as Night Light unfurls gently. Cave swaps his bass for an acoustic guitar, his delicate picking supporting McVeigh’s haunting, gravel-edged vocal as the song slowly builds.

White Lies @ Roundhouse

White Lies @ Roundhouse (Kalpesh Patel)

Then technology threatens to derail the moment as Bowen’s synth rig begins to falter. The band ride it out with humour. “We should have bought PCs but we bought Macs,” Lawrence-Brown jokes, while McVeigh hovers and the audience shout suggestions of “acapella” and “acoustic.” The issue resolves just in time for Death, the crowd clapping along from the first beat.

“London, thank you so much for being with us on the Sunday night, we appreciate you so much,” McVeigh says sincerely. “We’ve been doing this so long now, 15 years, and there’s no guarantee of longevity in this industry so I’m just so grateful that we’re still here and you guys are still coming to the shows.”

“We’re going to see if our keyboard rig lasts long enough to play one final song,” he chuckles, before In The Middle closes the night, defiant and euphoric.

On the second night of their Roundhouse residency, White Lies prove not just their staying power, but their ability to balance nostalgia with forward momentum. Technical hiccups and unexpected pauses only underline the band’s professionalism and connection with their audience, making this hometown show feel intimate, triumphant, and fully alive.

Live review & photography of White Lies @ Roundhouse, London by Kalpesh Patel on 1st February 2026.

Mumford & Sons Return Home Renewed And Reignited At The O2 Arena