Welly: not just Big In The Suburbs

“Pop has been gentrified. // I, Welly, and my gorgeous band, are the cure. // This is proper, spit-and-sawdust, chalk-and-cheese, salt-and-vinegar Pop.” (Spotify)

I can’t tell if the gig season kicked off later than usual this autumn/ winter, or if I just haven’t made enough time to check out live music as often as I would like. Nevertheless, I’d had this gig for Welly at the Parish Dive Bar in the diary for weeks. So, on a random Saturday at the end of November, I dragged my flatmate with me on a train to Huddersfield to go and check this band out.

Welly (aka Elliot) is a self-proclaimed “suburban smart-arse” and frontman of an energetic britpop slash indie rock band from Southampton. Probably the best way I and seemingly Elliot (from my research stalking their X account) could describe the band is if the Zero Zombies from Horrid Henry grew up and sang about the frustrations of modern-day suburbia. Their music exudes the irony of current British culture (”Unpack your morals // For Jack Kerouacs novels”, ‘Soak Up The Culture’) and this humour is also translated over onto their digital footprint (”Fuck your sunburnt relic ‘59 telecaster // I want the Mr Blobby Bass”, X). I can’t quite remember how I first came across this band, however I am very glad that their song ‘Shopping’ managed to find its way onto my playlist. If you’re into the likes of Homes Counties, Flat Party or FEET, then this is definitely a band to delve into the discography of.

When we arrived at the venue, we were immediately greeted with retro film and music posters, fruit machines, and pool tables. I felt right at home. Pint in hand, we watched the opening band, Rushbonds, a band based in Leeds with a few shows under their belt already. With their experimental indie/ jazz-fusion melodies and soulful lyrics, it was difficult to not fall immediately in love with their music. After their set, we spoke to them briefly and took some photos for them. Definitely another band to look out for!

On our journey through Huddersfield from the train station to the Parish Dive Bar, we’d kept running into the same group of people. When we were ordering at the bar of the venue, we saw them again and assumed it was just coincidence. It was only when we saw them take to the stage dressed in hilariously nostalgic iterations of primary school uniforms that we realised we’d accidentally been running into Welly and his band the entire evening.

Welly started off his set with an enthusiastic introduction of his band members (Joe and Matt on guitars, Jacob on bass, and Hanna on percussion / synthesisers), followed by the currently unreleased track, ‘It’s Not Like This In France’, that featured the odd lyric in French (as a French student, I was very happy). The banter between songs with the audience was consistent and strong, and Elliot somehow managed to make audience participation not awkward or cringe at all. Some highlights were the demonstration by Joe of the difference between a canter and a trot, congratulating Hanna on her Grade 2 cowbell exam, and nearly getting knocked over by Jacob doing an Angus Young impression in the crowd mid-song. I was quite surprised when they played their most streamed song, ‘Shopping’, quite early on into the set. No complaints from me however, as it was one of my favourite songs by them prior to this performance. Fortunately, Welly didn’t let the energy plateau after that, continuing to deliver song after song that you just couldn’t help but jump around to. Their latest released single, ‘Big In The Suburbs’, was another hit with the crowd, with its driving guitar riffs and witty lyricism. For their final song, ‘Me and Your Mates’, the atmosphere was electrifying, with the whole crowd, Rushbonds included, in a mini mosh pit.

One of the great things about going to these smaller gigs is that you feel a strong sense of community. All the bands stick around to support each other, and you get the impression that everyone is just really happy to be there and to be playing their music to an audience. This gig highlighted the importance of supporting local grassroots music venues; going to shows of perhaps lesser known artists is vital to their survival, as well as a great way to discover new music. Although the crowd was small, I can safely say that this was one of the best gigs I’ve been to in a while. Dancing with the support band, laughing at Welly’s antics, and exchanging banter made the whole experience one to remember. The connection between the band and the audience was unmistakably intimate and real. After the show, I talked to Elliot about what it means to him to be playing these types of shows:

“A lot of small music venues are closing and I think a lot of the bands are quite dire, quite dour, and quite sort of impersonal to the people that are coming to the shows. We try and put a show on that, when we come to these places, it’s a laugh, it’s a reason to spend £7, it’s a reason to try and come to these small venues, which are dying at a rate of knots. I think music has to change if the venues are gonna change.”

I think this ethos shone through in their performance. Although my flatmate didn’t really know much about Welly when I persuaded her to come with me, we both had such an amazing night; an electric evening at a venue that perfectly captured the spirit of small music venues. Watching a band like them play was a reminder of why I love live music: it’s an atmosphere you just can’t recreate anywhere else. I think Welly’s appeal is really quite universal, and I’m extremely jealous of all the people that were able to attend their last gig of the tour in Hackney on the 4th of December – it looked amazing!

Words by Anya Fernihough

Make some noise for Maruja: they won’t hear you over their tambourine.

Twirling onto stage with flailing arms in such a way that I can only describe as resembling an inflatable man, lead singer Harry Wilkinson makes his way to the microphone while beckoning for applause that the audience readily gives. Joe Carroll on the saxophone (and later tambourine), Matt Buonaccorsi on bass and Jacob Hayes on drums make up the rest of the unique Mancunian band, Maruja. Previously described as ‘jazz punk’, I’d say this categorisation of their music is probably the most accurate label they could be given. With elements of heavy rock, soulful instrumentals and subtly political lyrics, this genre defying band is difficult to describe. 

In an interview with Craig Charles on BBC Radio 6 Music last Friday, saxophonist Joe Carroll describes their live shows as having “moments that are complete carnage” and sections of “free-formy, emotional stuff”. They start with ‘The Invisible Man’, which seemingly has both these elements within the same song, with repeating saxophone phrases that become earworms and lyrics that start at an almost-whisper building to a passionate shout.

Having heard of the frequency of stage dives the band commits to, I decided to stick to lurking more towards the back of Brudenell Social Club. Even though I am a sucker for a mosh pit, I feared I would not even survive the splash zone of a stage dive and refused to spend Wednesday night in A&E after being squashed by a fully grown man. Instead, I observed as the oscillating bodies were sent into an explosive, energetic frenzy. All Wilkinson must do is flick his wrist and the crowd responds spectacularly as he laments into the microphone.

Towards the climax of their lively performance of ‘One Hand Behind The Devil’, Carroll swaps his saxophone for a tambourine and proceeds to carry out the most vigorous tambourine shaking I have ever witnessed. As the drums accelerate, Carroll dives into the audience, tambourine still in hand, and glides atop the fluid crowd beneath him. 

Following that intense performance, the band announces that they will now perform some improvised instrumental. A couple of audience members around me sigh and claim it as a bathroom break or excuse to get a drink, but the rest of us stay and absorb the new noises drifting off the stage. There is something peaceful in letting sound wash over you. I could try and focus on the music, but my mind wanders only for it to then be drawn back to the repetitive intricacies that each musician brings to the stage.

After this moment of calm, the band launches back into ‘Look Down On Us’, before Carroll yet again finds himself within the crowd. However, this time he parts the crowd down the middle and during the opening of ‘Thunder’, confrontationally plays his sax at members of the crowd as he paces up and down the centre of the room. Once he has made his way back onto the stage, the moshing begins once again.

Before their final song, the band comments on the current state of our world and leads a resounding chant of “Free, Free, Palestine!” before launching into my personal favourite, ‘Resisting Resistance’. Fully instrumental, it’s incredible how much can be said without any lyrics. From the underlying drums gradually becoming increasingly more urgent throughout the track, to the mournful sax. It sounds dramatic, but there is such a contradictory sense of despair and hope that descends over the crowd making it hard not feel an ache in your chest, especially given the clearly intended humanitarian and political context.

While we impatiently await the arrival of their first album, I highly recommend you experience them live if you ever get the chance.

Words by Cassia Bennett

More Than a Genre: Country Music’s American Roots and Global Rise


Growing up in sunny Ventura, California, country music was always part of my day to day. Sure, I listened to all kinds of music – rock, hip hop, etc. – but the station 100.7 FM was always on. Ventura isn’t a cowboy town, but your average coastal surf town where you can find rodeos, line dancing, and plenty of country music around. While I don’t necessarily blast country music as much as I did when I was younger, it’s always there. Like a pair of Doc Martens – you don’t wear them every day, but you never forget about them.

As a kid, country music was huge. And honestly, I went through a whole phase in middle school where I fully embraced it, boots and all. I literally wore cowboy boots for a whole year like they were going out of style – still crying after all the blisters I got. I would belt out Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” like I’d been through a dozen heartbreaks, even though I was a 10-year-old girl who hadn’t even kissed a boy yet. The point is, country music was everywhere, and I was fully immersed in it, even if I didn’t really understand the lyrics yet.

The thing about country music is that it’s woven into the daily lives of many Americans. It’s not just a genre you listen to on car rides down the highway, but acts as a soundtrack to life. Whether it’s a tailgate before the college football games, the opening song at a rodeo, or a good ol’ classic line dancing bar, country is always there. It’s about the community aspects, storytelling, and about cherishing those feelings we all experience together. Some of my greatest memories as a kid was going to the state fairs, where country music thrived. Sure, the music talks about trucks, beer, and love, but that’s a part of the American experience that’s shared from coast to coast.

As someone who’s lived in three different countries over the past four years, I’ve noticed something: country music is getting popular outside America?? The genre I thought was a U.S. staple is growing globally. People abroad I would meet joked about country music singing about rednecks and beer bellies, but lately, they’re actually… liking it? (gasp, I know!) It’s like people woke up and realized country music isn’t just for truck driving, whiskey drinking, overall-wearing folks. I mean, I’m not a hillbilly, and definitely not a redneck, but that never stopped me from tapping my foot along. It’s everyone’s music now – and it’s a big deal.

More recently, the genre has taken a whole new direction. The top charts aren’t filled with familiar voices like Luke Combs, but are now welcoming names like Shaboozey and Dasha, who aren’t traditionally country at all. So why the shift then? Part of it is that these artists are bringing in a new generational approach to it. People crave something different, and these artists are shaking it up by adding pop and hip hop flares, even though people think they still sound basic (as in me, I am said people). Even Chappell Roan added country-inspired elements to her newest release “The Giver”. But here’s the thing: today’s ‘Top Country Charts’ just don’t itch my brain the same. With artists like Shaboozey and Dasha in the top charts, their sound is far from the twangy, storytelling vibe that pulled me in as a kid. Compared to the songs I grew up with, a lot of them now sound a bit… well, generic. There’s something that the OG artists had – Rascal Flatts, Toby Keith, Gretchen Wilson – that just made their music stay on repeat. Even though I love how country is evolving and welcoming new sounds and artists, there’s a little part of me that misses the older country.

It was Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter (2024) that took people by surprise, with adding unexpected collabs like Post Malone joining in on country and showing that anyone with heart and soul can add to the genre (I’m still obsessed and Cowboy Carter will definitely be on my Spotify Wrapped!). Months after that release, Post Malone released his recently Grammy nominated country album F1​​-Trillion, blending his styles with the OGs like Dolly Parton, Blake Shelton, and Brad Paisley. This fusion feels very intentional showing it’s a reinvention, and reshaping country music to fit into the fast-paces globalized world we live in! Although the genre stayed the same for years, stand out artists like Post Malone are contributing to breaking and rewriting the traditional “rules” bound to the genre. 

Seeing country go global is exciting, as it’s not just American-centric anymore. Country music is getting more international attention, with festivals popping up in Europe, Australia, and South Africa. As much as country is transforming, the old-school vibe is still very much alive! It’s actually not going anywhere. Sure, the genre evolved with pop and rap collaborations, but the heart and soul of singing about the love, loss, and life of the country, will never leave. Now, let’s be honest. Even though I don’t listen to country music on repeat like I used to, it’s still around me. Whenever I hear a country song abroad, it always makes my heart happy, as if I’m getting a little piece of home again. It’s funny how something can become less about the music and more about the culture itself. So, whether you’re a diehard country fan, a casual listener, or someone unfamiliar with the genre, one thing’s for sure: country music is here to stay. Through genre-blending collaborations and international festivals, country remains a universal language of love, loss, and life’s simple pleasures.

Words by Hannah Howard

Review: Infinity Song’s Live at Leeds Debut

A slow burn is a hell of a thing. It’s one thing to be promised something, but something else entirely to be told you have to wait for it. When Infinity Song’s soundcheck ran into their Live at Leeds set by ten minutes, I was frustrated, as anyone would be, but I trusted their talent, and their ability to bring something to the table. I knew if I stuck around, the wait would be worth it.

Truth be told, ‘worth it’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. When they opened their set with a nine-minute cover of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Dreams’, my jaw dropped, and my expectations went sky high. The four siblings, Momo, Angel, Abraham and Israel, and their accompanying band, operate as one unit, effortlessly harmonising with one another and giving each other space to show off; whenever they’d take a step back to let Israel shred a guitar solo, my eyes and ears were wide open.

Though synchronized to an inhuman degree, Infinity Song are overwhelmingly human. They strike a perfect balance between a band of classically trained musicians with a job to do, and a family travelling the world together. Fan favourite ‘Haters Anthem’ saw them at their most fun, as they huddled together and chanted the song’s hilariously spiteful lyrics with the audience; ‘I love the way it feels to be a hater / something’s so sweet about thinking that I’m better.’

They ended their set with my personal favourite, ‘Slow Burn’, and that it was. Starting off slow and mellow, and eventually making their way to double time, the band took my breath away with this performance. Just when you thought they’d finished, one of the siblings would step forward for another riff, another run, another solo; it’s very easy for a band to overstay their welcome onstage, but they could still be playing right this second, and I’d still be stood in the crowd, singing and swaying along.

Infinity Song are a real talent. The Roc Nation signees have quickly propelled themselves into the stratosphere, and I’m so grateful they landed in Leeds for the day. Rock music has never been more back.

Words by Lucas Assagba