Independent Venue Week: won’t you take me to Regtown ’25?

It was born out of the blessed poetry of Lipps Inc. Had they known when they wrote ‘Funkytown’ back in 1970, that they actually proposed a culturally, spiritually, enlightened definitive question in their pulsating chorus: ‘oh won’t you take me to Regtown 2025?’ Little did they know of their influence on independent Leeds based record label Private Regcords, taking on their grandest gesture yet and booking out the entirety of Hyde Park Book Club to celebrate DIY small festivals and local talent galore.

Mr James Vardy, CEO of Private Regcords, and the puppeteer behind the 15 acts on his lineup proposed such a musical coup on the beloved student hotspot this past Independent Venue Week, in effort to celebrate a variation of local experimental, indie, art-pop, jazz and everything in between. This special day of collaboration could not have been met with a more sanctimonious response, selling out on general admission tickets and flogging T-shirts like evangelical pedlars in the freezing cold to raise funds for an awesome night. These days not many startup festivals can financially upkeep themselves, and the struggle to meet the nail biting margin for a necessary profit to continue consumes most creative projects with inaccessibility, bankruptcy and the fearful reminder of the state live music is in. So the fact that we have events like this means that our community has struck gold on its legacy for culture. 

It’s within these third spaces that musicians are not only playing to one another, but praising each other’s work in recognition of being equals on a lineup, curated by people who love local music. And not only did they party until Leeds’ City Councils temporary 2am curfew extension – oh no. If you want to get involved and continue spreading the message of DIY events, head on down every Sunday at 10am to the new Hangover Sessions in the Snug Room of Hyde Park Book Club, where the record label hosts stripped back performances as cures for your post-Saturday shenanigans. I know it cured my post-Regtown festival blues.

Written by Eszter Vida

Adult DVD. Sold Out. In The Round.

Adult DVD. Sold out. 1am start time. In the round.  

Adult DVD’s hometown gig at the Belgrave Music Hall was as chaotically energetic as anyone who is even vaguely familiar with their music could expect. ‘Yacht Money’ and ‘Hot Set’ provided the ideal start, an unapologetic blend of punchy vocals from lead singer Harry Hanson, strong riffs and as much influence from the synths as could be imagined with no less than four on stage, encapsulating in microcosm the band’s distinctive sound. Often made comparisons to LCD Soundsystem are not without merit, but only by listening to their classification defying acid/electronic/dance rock can one begin to grasp what Adult DVD are about. 

Simply put, the ‘in the round’ aspect of the gig – where the band stood in a circle essentially amongst the crowd, in an intimate ‘boiler room’ style – worked brilliantly. Perhaps the main beneficiary (apart from the crowd) was drummer Jonathan Newell; no longer relegated to the back of the stage behind a wall of equipment, the pulse Newell provided not only provided the perfect complement to the synths but deservedly took the spotlight at times.

‘7 foot 1’ and ‘Dogs In the Sun’ were both well crafted and compiled without losing the jazzy electricity that makes the band unique. They provided the perfect build up to the highlight of the night, ‘Do something’. A cacophonous soundscape as full of relentless dynamism as the rest of their music, ‘Do something’ retains lyrical sardonicism whilst being undeniably catchy. This combines to give a sense of forward motion – surely emblematic of the band’s trajectory in the coming years.

The remainder of the set basked in the playful peculiarity of the moment. It is not every day at 2AM you are stood, essentially engulfed by a dance/rock band, above an (albeit excellent) canteen in Leeds’s Northern Quarter, but as the industrious ‘Sadman Mancave’ faded into the joyfully crazy ‘Bill Murray’, it became apparent it’s something that should happen more often. 

Written by Freddie Waterland

Inhaler: Open Wide – the new era of Inhaler is here 

Inhaler; we know the score by now. Commanders of the nepo-baby debate in music, generals of the vibrant Dublin music scene, loyal servants to that glamorous indie rock and roll. A frontman who’s the son to a king of rock, imaginary boyfriend to a million fangirls. But is that where the story ends?  Following their first two full releases, the pandemic plagued It Won’t Always Be Like This (2021) and sophomore outing Cuts and Bruises (2023), the Irish four-piece have released their latest project Open Wide (2025), a passion driven exploration into love, authenticity and what the creation of music means to them. 

With two albums under their belts, Inhaler could seem set in their groove. Pick a country and they could sell out a show there, pick a song and they can play it to a rowdy and rambunctious crowd that will sing it back to them, ask them to pick a lane and a problem arises. For an artist finding ‘their sound’ is no mean feat, but one would argue that being defined by a sound and being able to subvert that in an appealing, necessary and logical way is a much meaner one (see the parting of Arctic Monkeys fans like the red sea following the conceptual Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino (2018)). Nevertheless, Inhaler have taken a deep breath (too on the nose?) and strove for this album to represent their genuine selves, even if that means outgrowing their indie-rock roots. It’s evident the group have shed their skin with this album and embraced the pop elements that encapsulate so many of their greater qualities – the infectious melodies, the catchy hook, the screamable chorus, and to call a spade a spade – this is a pop-rock album. Gone is the very loosely tied label of indie (I mean how independent can you be when signed to Polydor records), with Inhaler striving to break free from any chains being recognised as an “indie band” might thrust upon them. 

The album opens with ‘Eddie in the Darkness’- who Eddie is and what he is doing in the darkness is still unclear, but at the very least he mimics the slew of Inhaler fans entering this album in the dark. Following a series of single releases – none of which the same, all of which noticeable deviations from the band’s pre-established formula, fans were left to wonder what had become of the Irish rockers. Whilst the album is a stark departure from the quartet’s first album outing It Won’t Always Be Like This (2021), ‘Eddie in the Darkness’ eases listeners into the change, still containing notes of the Inhaler fans fell in love with a glam-rock twist, gearing them up for what is to come and as such it becomes the crux of this new era. 

If Inhaler has always known how to do one thing, it’s how to etch a catchy tune onto the grooves of your brain that infects every subsequent thought and shower concert you have (if my housemates are reading this, I can only apologise). ‘Billy (Yeah Yeah Yeah)’ and ‘A Question of You’ in particular wrap strings around your arms and legs with their shimmering guitar riffs and punchy drumbeats, puppeteering you into a bop regardless of your setting. Similarly, choruses of ‘Concrete’ and ‘Little Things’ could coax out the voice of those most quiet and scale it to the size of a choir. The groove is well and truly alive throughout the album – taking a life of its own, a life perhaps given by collaboration with Kid Harpoon. The British producer of Harry’s House (2022) fame was given the trust of Inhaler and tasked with translating their lofty pop dreams of authenticity and groove into a tight 13 track album. His influence is palpable, with several songs coming straight from his catalogue of synth-pop mega-tunes designed for the biggest stages. 

Elijah Hewson really pushes his vocal performance, squeezing every drop out of his vast vocal range, less so in the classic sense of pushing his upper limit – but instead displaying a lower timber which compliments the building verses on many a track. Drummer Ryan McMahon gives a rhythmic and tight performance which bassist Robert Keating builds upon with his bold and striking basslines. Ultimately though Josh Jenkinson, lead guitarist of the band, is the absolute standout. His lead sections ebb and flow – calling out to the listeners at exactly the right moments without overpowering the symbiosis of the final product. He is a true chameleon, dancing between genres and sifting through rhythms; with country-infused riffs on songs like ‘X-Ray’ and much funkier melodies on tracks like ‘A Question Of You’. 

This album, beyond its sonic characteristics can be defined by love- a word synonymous with Inhaler some might say. Their first ever single, ‘I Want You’, an obvious tale of youthful love, my personal favourite track of theirs, ‘Love Will Get You There’, an homage to the importance of intimacy, and their fans, well loving would be a bloody understatement (Pre-gig queueing is scheduled to be added to the next Olympics as an endurance event thanks to their questionably motivated efforts). The band’s latest outing is no different with love being the key tenant of most songs. The lyrical direction of the album has devotion and adoration brimming at the surface and there’s an easy thread of passion to follow throughout the project, giving listeners an immediate and heartfelt connection to the songs. ‘Your House’ and ‘The Charms’ in particular capture this passion in their lyrics- calling out to many a hopeless romantic who may be hearing this album in (a potentially) bleak mid-February. 

Open Wide (2025) depicts Inhaler at the peak of their powers. Gone is that youthful naivety of an accused nepo-baby indie band and in its place – a charismatic and poised pop-rock authenticity that serves as a statement of intent. A statement of intent of a band who have cultivated their sound and are ready to show it off on the biggest stage.  Prying the love of that good ol’ indie music from the tight grips of the wild diehard Inhaler fan is no easy feat, but the Dublin four-piece have dug their claws in and ripped the arms of their legion of admirers open wide, ready to embrace their new era. 

Written by Dan Brown

Kyle Reviews Addison Rae’s New Drop Because We Are Nothing Without Our Stereotypes

You know me, Reader. I was lay (boyfriend’s bed, the Cuatro Torres just visible out the window, it’s Valentine’s Day, he’s at work, God it’s so hard), thinking (slightly hungover, freshly cut hair, 3 espressos deep, dodging the cumstain on my pillow) about whether to snatch an arbitrary line from Marx’s Grundrisse or Sedgwick’s Epistemology of the Closet to feign informed sociological analysis of Addison Rae’s new single, ‘High Fashion’, and in doing so fraudulently intellectualise the fact that I froth-at-the-mouth-rabidly support this woman’s current trajectory. I was lay (I am lay) in these sheets, and you may think this introduction promises my resignation from this formula, BUT IT DOES NOT. Self-awareness does not necessitate moral puritanism, Reader. I am nothing if not a proselyte. And I might add: if any number of novels can establish status via epigraph, then so shall I. Without further ado…. Ben Lerner’s 2014 novel (one of my all-time favourites) is preceded by the following epigraph:

“The Hassidim tell a story about the world to come that says everything there will be just as it is here. Just as our room is now, so it will be in the world to come; where our baby sleeps now, there too it will sleep in the other world. And the clothes we wear in this world, those too we will wear there. Everything will be as it is now, just a little different.”

This motif of “everything as it is now, just a little different” is echoed throughout the text, and comes to involve itself with ideas of intertextuality, representation, and authorship. To what point can anyone truly author anything, if the cultural artefact produced results from a centuries-long interpersonal means of production through which you learned the necessary skills and gleaned the necessary inspiration to be moved to make such an artefact? The Hassidic story itself is one Lerner says that he first happened upon in Agamben, but that is usually attributed to Walter Benjamin, who critics note heard it from Gershom Scholem. Maybe the sum of all things in the world-to-come, despite the new meshings of old influences and processes, is, as the story proposes, as it is now. Maybe, if we do not think of the “everything” as “every single thing” and instead visualise it as the holistic “everything of now” versus the “everything of then”, we realise that everything will indeed be as it is now, because the sum of all things will still weigh the same, in grams if not in cultural weight. All we do is reshape, remesh, rewind and press play. 

Stay with me. If we suspend our disbelief, this means that, no, your housemate was not the first housemate to piss himself in Wharf Chambers. No, the Leeds Swimming Society was not the first swimming society to play soggy biscuit. And I’m sorry, I really am, but you and your friends were not the first ones to find that bench on the hill behind Meanwood Valley Farm that overlooks the city. I know someone who shat there. But even if you and your group of friends were the West Yorkshire conquistadors that you imagined, my point is none of it would be really new! The soggy biscuit would simply be the incidental next iteration of thousands of years of rancid biscuit-based tests of character. I am sure that Henry VIII was the sorest loser of soil’d bisquite that 1503 ever saw. 

Circling back, though, you have likely inferred at this point that this is a setup for me to defend Addison Rae against plagiarism allegations. You wouldn’t be far off. “High Fashion”, a whisper-falsetto track that stings against a thick, layered synth instrumentation, definitely recalls “Fetish”-era Selena Gomez (2017) and Ariana Grande’s “Let Me Love You” and “Touch It” (2016). Likewise, Rae’s first and second singles from her upcoming debut pulled generously from pop of the last 20 years, with “Diet Pepsi” (2024) drawing comparison to early Lana Del Rey and “Aquamarine”’s (2024) glittery production pointing to Madonna’s Ray of Light (1998) and American Life (2003). And these are not baseless comparisons; Rae’s existing discography undeniably rehashes pop music as it has been established thus far, almost as an agenda. 

But in truth, I do not find it convincing that this makes her a copycat any more than it makes her a ‘student’ of the culture. The music itself, combined with the concomitant imagery she has released alongside it, betrays (at least to me) a concerted effort to be seen making a concerted effort to be a popstar. Whether it’s the performative, almost histrionic hypersexuality in her music videos; the ill-fitting, dress-up style outfits; the brownnosing of Charli XCX; the bubblegum-blowing on the cover of her debut EP; the OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES (2018) jumper; or the stylish, eyebrowless accessory that she has made of choreographer Lexee Smith, to me this rebrand screams popstar-plays-girl-desparate-to-be-popstar. It is the ouroboros!!! And dare I say it is, for the Aquama-ra-ra bitch, a foolproof ploy.

Medidate on this. A Tiktok darling of the universally-hated “Renegade” epoch, Addison had no doubt seen the vicious reception of ‘serious’ attempts at music by her fellows (colleagues? contemporaries?) and herself (see: “Obsessed” (2021)). She (and her team, I’m sure) would have known that a transition to popstar would be no mean feat, and to circumvent this, the (I’ll say it) genius move was to make her entire brand a satirisation of her own position in the media-sphere. If she were to play the part of a wide-eyed, fame-hungry protegé of Charli and Troye Sivan, both explicitly in the kitsch, frenzy, and referentiality of her music videos and more convincingly in paid-for paparazzi shots and dazed-and-confused red carpet interviews, any negative reception she received for the awkwardness of her reorientation towards music would be suffused into the self-consciously artificial, fawning persona she had marketed. She would set up a relationship with the public in which criticism is negated and instead relegates itself to fluffing up her own polemacy, and those on either cognitive side of those who criticise (those who consume the product without any level of interrogation, and those who enjoy the art of the charade itself) will praise her relentlessly (see: me). 

The proof is in the pudding – the numbers Addison is pulling right now are nothing to be sniffed at. On Spotify, “Aquamarine” sits at 32 million streams, and “Diet Pepsi” at a mammoth 292 million. Beyond this, Rae is fraternising with any number of established popstars (Lorde, Rosalía, etc.) while simultaneously gesturing at relationships with more esoteric figures such as Arca. She’s walking the tightrope well because she has erected neon billboards pointing at the tightrope and just how thin it is. 

As far as I’m concerned, “High Fashion” and it’s (anything but) coke-fuelled visuals has one foot (pun intended) planted in Addison’s hallmark please-don’t-make-me-sing! kitsch and the other firmly in an ambition to innovate, through however many layers of metacommentary. Disjointed, vapid lyrics (I know I’m drunk, but…”) poorly solder a number of pop clichés together (‘couture’, libido, uppers, exhibitionism). They make the track fodder for off-the-bat criticism à la Artpop (2014), but the poor lyrical execution is juxtaposed against an unexpectedly complex, hazy instrumental which weaves in and out of the vocal performance and, during drops, cracks open into EDM-adjacent texture. The track’s video, too, plays with garish colour, visual allusion, and forced perspective, meshing together images of Addison as a chalk-covered gymnast, Oz’s Dorothy, and a closet fashionista literally playing dress up. It’s frenetic, but it’s notably more thought-out than the lyrics. The work put into the track’s music video and production problematise an assessment of the lyrics that dismisses them as thoughtless or manufactured. 

For if ‘manufactured’ is the intention, what is the logic behind it? Stirring controversy for publicity? Or holding a mirror up to the pop that we’ve been listening to uncritically for the last couple of decades? If Addison, the total newcomer to ‘serious’ art, she who is easiest to critique, decides to gut her lyrics of meaning, does this not reinscribe the words sung with words implied? Words that ask us how deep the lyrics of pop we admit as enjoyable actually are. The song she has produced, whether or not its lyricism is justified by the modalities attached to it, is just as the songs we accept are, but a little different. A little different in source, a little different in frankness regarding influences, a little different in its relationship with sincerity. But by writing a mirror instead of an image itself, this music encourages us to review what we consider good or original art, our acceptance of a world-to-come that does not invent its meaning machines but simply reboots them, and our own media literacy. 

Written by Kyle Galloway

In Conversation with The Murder Capital: No words have lost meaning here for upcoming album Blindness

Millie Cain chats to The Murder Capital’s Cathal Roper discussing their forthcoming 3rd album, their tour with Nick Cave, and independent record stores. 

Blindness, The Murder Capital’s stormy 3rd album opens with an older track, Moonshot’, that Cathal described as a “wall of sound, it wasn’t a song we had worked on really. James already had played it on acoustic – we wanted to open the record with a drop on the needle. Gigi [2nd Album, Gigi’s Recovery (2023)] is very cinematic, with a lot of world building in that. A lot of our fave records you press play and it just starts right – and ‘Moonshot’ really does that.” 

Ahead of Blindness’ 21st February release, they’ve released 3 singles, most standout being ‘Words Lost Meaning’. “Gabe had the bassline, he was having an argument with his girlfriend at the time and came out with that and it just so happened that when James put lyrics down that it was in the same vein – weird coincidence. We wrote that in Dublin, and it didn’t change much except the 3rd verse, with building guitars. It felt like a single straight away, the others weren’t as clear. ‘Words Lost Meaning’ felt like it was going to do what a single has to do.” 

Huge anticipation awaits their forthcoming tour, starting with record shops up and down the UK, then a headline April tour. This is off the back of The Murder Capital’s coveted support slot touring with Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds at the end of last year. “Nick Cave – it was lovely, we got to have dinner with him one night, very nice and honest man, pretty funny. He’s an incredible performer, and we got to perform songs from Blindness that we hadn’t played.”

In terms of Blindness as an album, The Murder Capital have taken a step away from the concentrated structure of Gigi’s Recovery (2023). ”Gigi’s was heavily demoed, and Blindess was less so, honestly it was done on purpose. Gigi didn’t really grow much in the studio from what we already had, getting together with John [Congleton] we wanted to go to the studio and all the songs to change and grow. Things were so rigid with Gigi – we wanted that growth.”

“It honestly feels like funnily enough a merge of the first 2 records, there was such a reaction to the first one that we didn’t want to do anything to the first one, we were almost insecure about it representing all of us. And Gigi’s was so cinematic and world building that we missed the urgency of the first record, but we missed the texture. Blindness is more confident, self assured, in ourselves and our sound and makes the first record make a bit more sense too.”

“We had rehearsals last week for these instores, we played ‘Moonshot’ together for the first time. We had all recorded it separately on the last day of recording and it was all mixed together by John, so it was really good to see it come together.”

Alongside the Record Store Tour, The Murder Capital are hitting tons of independent venues in April, including the Brudenell on the 21 and 22nd. In terms of focusing on these venues, Cathal relayed how they chose the stops for their tour with “a conversation between us and our agent, I love the Brudenell. Nathan who runs it always really looks after us too so we’re so excited to play there again.” 

A favourite on the album for Cathal is ‘Train On The Wing’. “I’m excited for people to hear it, it’s a more laid back song and more of the sort of stuff I’ve been playing since I was 16, and ‘Swallow’ as well. The guitar work there is an Irish traditional approach I went for – yeah I’m just really happy with how it turned out.” 

Blindness itself was a theme of the record “it feels like a good word for all the topics that are discussed on the records. How do we encompass these? It’s generally about introspection, looking inside yourself, what makes the decisions and reactions you have and how that manifests itself out in the world. It’s a focus on your peripheral vision, the abstract of the everyday and blindness felt like the perfect word for that.”

For album 3, The Murder Capital leant into their influences of The Cure and The Velvet Underground. “James was really into a phase of Suicide (1977), for myself I was listening to a lot of Big Thief. I love Adrianne Lenker and everything she does. And this great record by Cameron Winter called Heavy Metal – that record he did is incredible, it has me in tears a lot of the time. That song ‘Drinking Age’ is probably one of the best songs  – I really hope that record blows up more.” As do we, as Heavy Metal was certainly a standout 2024 album, if not a generational one. 

The Murder Capital’s 3rd Album Blindness will be available on Friday 21st February 2025, and will be on tour at Brudenell 21st & 22nd April 2025. 

Written by Millie Cain