Inside The Burning Hell

Crashing a wedding. Canadian figure skaters. Wartime Espionage. Amateur rapping. Climate change. Life as a Viking single parent. Upstairs amongst the hotchpotch, village-hall glamour of Brighton’s oldest gig venue, The Prince Albert, Canadian indie collective The Burning Hell spin their tall tales with wit, charm and a disarming insouciance. Over the last decade, this band... Continue Reading →

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Enter, Joy Room

  The crowd sparks and fires, rising as one to the beat. The people at the periphery wheel away with childish exuberance before lunging back towards the centre, so that it looks synchronised, pre-ordained almost, like a firework going off. Up on stage, Ned is slouched low over his kit, the machine-gun fire of drumsticks... Continue Reading →

Introducing The Family Chain

We’ve all seen bands where the band are too cool to say anything, or too cool to give a shit about anything, and I hate that. I just want to be a band that shows that we fucking want to do this. It’s Friday evening and the street heaves and sways with anticipation. Loosely formed... Continue Reading →

An evening with Spy From Moscow

“So if that’s Ireland”, his fingers trace the shape of the glass, “and there’s Dublin, and there’s Belfast, then I’m from just here, in the North, but on the border.” Declan Feenan, better known as Spy From Moscow, leans across the table and gathers the half-full pint in his hand, his smile already on the... Continue Reading →

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