Orville Peck has been away from the UK for seven years. Judging by the crowd gathering around Camden’s The Roundhouse tonight, seven years is far too long. Camden is renowned for its eclectic mix of fashion styles, but there is a seismic shift in a very Western direction this evening. Walking down the High Street, the odd cowboy hat appears here, a tasselled jacket there, perhaps even a pair of chaps every now and again. But the closer you get to The Roundhouse, the hats, boots, jackets and fringe begin to multiply exponentially.
The reason is simple. Orville Peck is finally back in town. After seven long years, everyone’s favourite masked cowboy has brought his rodeo back to UK shores, and the excitement inside the venue is almost tangible. This is not simply an audience waiting to watch an artist they like. It feels like a reunion between Orville Peck and a British fanbase that has spent years waiting for another chance to hear these songs in the room they were made for.
The anticipation is palpable. Every eye is fixed on the stage. The band members take their places one by one to the sound of The Kinks‘ Waterloo Sunset, stretching the anticipation even further. The crowd waits, knowing exactly who is still missing. Then, finally, he appears. The response is enormous. Dressed for the occasion and guitar in hand, Johannesburg-hailing, US & Canada-based Daniel Pitout strides into the spotlight to a roar of approval before launching into Turn To Hate, immediately followed by C’mon Baby Cry. The seven-year wait is over. And judging by the volume inside The Roundhouse, nobody is planning to waste a second of it.
What becomes immediately apparent is just how deeply these songs have embedded themselves in the lives of the people standing in front of the stage. Every song is met with voices singing along word for word. Everywhere you look, people are smiling, dancing, shouting and simply soaking up the fact that the man behind the mask is finally standing in front of them again. There is a particular kind of joy in seeing an artist return after such a long absence, but this feels more profound than that. There is genuine gratitude in the room. After all, seven years is a long time.
During that period, the songs have remained, becoming part of people’s lives while the opportunity to experience them live has remained frustratingly out of reach. Tonight, that gap finally closes. And Orville Peck understands exactly what the occasion means.
Between songs, Pitout takes his time talking to the crowd, offering stories and insight into the experiences that inspired the music. Rather than simply moving from one song to the next, he creates a sense that the audience is being invited further inside the world behind the mask. He speaks about Hexie Mountains, explaining how it was the first song where he felt able to be genuinely open and vulnerable about his struggles with anxiety and depression. The response is immediate. There is a sense that the admission is not simply being heard but understood.
Then comes Blush, a song written about a man who ghosted Peck while he was living in London. The story prompts another enormous reaction, and suddenly the distance between performer and audience feels almost non-existent. For an artist whose public persona is so deliberately constructed, these moments of vulnerability are particularly effective. The mask may remain, but the person behind it feels remarkably exposed.
The set then moves across Orville Peck‘s catalogue, drawing from older releases alongside more recent material. Atchafalaya, from his Appaloosa EP, provides the first outing of the evening for material from that release. Originally featuring Noah Cyrus, tonight the vocal is taken by one of Peck’s oldest friends, Emily Rose, adding another personal dimension to a song that already feels rooted in friendship and connection.
Then it is back to Bronco with Any Turn, a rousing celebration of life on the road and the relentless nature of touring. It also gives Peck an opportunity to let loose. He storms around the stage as the fringed tassels of his outfit fly behind him, his signature White Falcon guitar catching the stage lights as he throws himself into the performance. It is a reminder that beneath all the mystique, melancholy and storytelling, Orville Peck knows exactly how to put on a show. And the audience is more than willing to join him. There is dancing everywhere. The atmosphere inside The Roundhouse has become less like a conventional gig and more like a long-delayed celebration.
At one point, Peck apologises for the length of time since his last UK visit before explaining just how much has happened in the meantime. The band have not even spent much of the recent period touring the US, with Peck instead appearing in Cabaret, filming the new Street Fighter movie and working on a new album. Each revelation receives its own enormous cheer. But when Peck tells the crowd that the new album will arrive “way sooner than you think”, the reaction is something else entirely.
Then comes the real treat. A brand-new song, Too Little, Too Late. It is a tantalising glimpse of what comes next, and the reaction suggests that the appetite for a new chapter of Orville Peck‘s music is already enormous. For an audience that has just waited seven years for this night, being handed a previously unheard song feels like an especially generous gift.
Then the atmosphere changes. The room falls quiet. The sound of crickets chirping fills the venue. For a moment, nobody moves. Then comes that unmistakable opening note. Dead Of Night. The reaction is immediate and deafening. It is, by some distance, one of the defining songs of Peck’s career and arguably the track many in the room have been waiting all evening to hear. Now, with the first notes ringing around The Roundhouse, the entire audience joins in. Thousands of voices become one.
For a song that helped establish Peck’s particular blend of country, Americana, cinematic melancholy and masked mystique, hearing it performed in this setting feels almost inevitable. It has travelled a long way from its original release, but tonight it belongs entirely to the people singing it back to him.
The encore provides another surprise. As has become customary on this tour, the first song of the encore changes from night to night, and tonight London gets Let Me Drown. It is another reminder that this is not a simple greatest-hits exercise. Peck is constantly reshaping the show, keeping an element of unpredictability for audiences who have followed the tour from one city to another.
Finally, he returns to Bronco for the title track. And with one final cry of “Yeehaw, London!”, the rodeo comes to an end.
For seven years, the UK has waited. Tonight, Orville Peck makes the wait feel like a distant memory. The cowboy hats will disappear back into wardrobes. The boots will eventually come off. The tasselled jackets will return to their usual place in the cupboard. But the feeling inside The Roundhouse tonight will take considerably longer to fade.
This is more than an artist returning to a country after a long absence. It is a reunion. And judging by the reaction, everyone in the room is already counting down to the next one — while simultaneously hoping that it will not take another 2,555 days.
Live review and photography of Orville Peck @ The Roundhouse, London by Emma Stone on 29th Juen 2026.
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