Jarred Up Fest ‘25: Down in the Basement
Our next piece of Jarred Up Fest ‘25 content is a good one. Down in the basement, we had a number of fantastic bands on show, and our resident reviewer Dave Cuthbertson was there to see it.
A music festival isn’t just a ‘music festival’. Even beyond the infinite varieties of genre, crowd and vibe, the setting of each one is special in its own way. This summer, I blissed out in the bucolic wilderness of Green Man’s mountain valley. Primavera’s mad fusion of urban architecture and coastal vistas had its own contrasting delights. Wonderful places, great line-ups. Both, however, with one small inconvenience most festivals suffer from: traipsing. Each move to another stage can become a logistical ordeal. Missing sets you wanted to catch becomes a fact of life. A friend ‘just nipping to the bar’ may not be seen for hours. And ultimately, it’s just taking away from the time you get to spend with the bands, and that’s what we’re all here for, right?
No such concerns at the second edition of Jarred Up Festival, making a triumphant return following last year’s successful inauguration. Contained within Sidney&Matilda’s three gig rooms, it’s a cosy affair which, beyond being really bloody convenient, creates a real feel of community. Bands mingle with each other and appreciative audiences throughout the day. With no more than a few dozen steps between stages, bar and courtyard, by the end of the day you’ll be striking up conversations with strangers you’ve stood next to in the crowd multiple times. With good reason, too, as there’s plenty to talk about: with a tightly observed fifteen-minute gap between slots and some of the best alternative bands in the UK rocking up, it promises to be a treat of a day for any music fan.
I arrive not long after doors open, taking shelter from the crisp autumn air in the Jingle Jangle Jungle stage (pleasingly named after Jarred Up’s Jangly James). The day’s opening set comes from the newly-formed The Pearl River Band, playing their first show. It’s a remarkable debut. Quavering organ, muscular rhythms and neat guitar interplay underpin the powerful vocals of singers Margo Osbaldiston and Luke Thompson. They take an almost-full room - no mean feat for an opening slot - on a journey through stomping glam, psychedelic grooves and uptempo surf-rock, with the dark Black Angels-esque menace of ‘Succumb to the Devil’ being my personal highlight. Ones to watch, and a great way to start the day.
During the set, I get a text requesting I cover the Basement stage for the rest of the festival: an unfortunate illness has laid a fellow Jarred Up writer low. So long Jingle Jangle Jungle, I hardly knew ye! It’s hard to be too downhearted with the Basement lineup looking as strong as it does, mind.
A very packed-out Basement (Photo: Ollie Franklin)
Down into the darkness for the first Basement set of the day, provided by Newcastle-based queer punk trio Gaydar. Fetchingly adorned in homemade balaclavas of questionable practicality (“they absorb the spit… but make you spit more”), an anarchic set of ferociously satirical hardcore punk follows, featuring thrown bourbon biscuits and a surprise water pistol attack. You know you’re in a good crowd when this just entices people even further forward. To imply that it’s all just chaos would be doing Gaydar a disservice, however. The angular interplay between guitar and bass locks in with the drums fantastically, and the lyrics of thrashy upcoming single ‘Prime Sinister’ display a biting wit.
I caught Gaydar after their set for a few words. How was it for them? “Fucking mint”, says singer and guitarist Riley. “SLAY! OH MY GOD” is the considered opinion of drummer Rachel. Sounds about right. It’s not Gaydar’s first rodeo in Sheffield: they’re Jarred Up stalwarts (“we love Jangly James” they proclaim - who doesn’t?). It is, however, bassist Jamy’s first gig with Gaydar. “It was frightening”, learning all the songs in a week - impressive stuff - and the band happily confirm Jamy will be welcome back to gig. We talk about the role punk plays in troubled, divisive times. “When you feel like you can’t manage all the crap that’s going on, you just have to scream”, says Riley. “There’s nothing more cathartic than yelling at people” confirms Rachel. More info is shared on the homemade balaclavas - a handy way to overcome social anxiety and sweat on stage - and the band confirm with tongue in cheek that they’ll split three ways for each stage for the rest of the day and report back “like a book club”. We finish with a chat about upcoming single Prime Sinister - released 29th October and “a banger”, confirms Riley (I concur) - and a possible album next year.
Gaydar (Photo: Ollie Franklin)
Next up in the Basement are Yowl, whose melodic, intricate slacker-rock brings a change of pace to the previous high-octane offerings. Their 2023 album, Milksick, was one of my favourites that year, and this is the first time I’ve seen them live. They don’t disappoint. Downtempo grooves lock in to mesmerising effect, while sprinklings of synth and slide guitar are a real treat for the ears in a set containing an exciting array of new material. Frontman Gabriel Byrde’s Andrew Savage-esque wry turns of phrase and half-doleful, half-impassioned vocals find a strange beauty in environmental catastrophes, emotional repression, and burning out. A busy Basement crowd hang on every word.
How did Yowl feel their set went? I caught Gabriel and guitarist Mike to find out. “That was really lovely. Surprisingly big crowd considering how long it’s been since we played in Sheffield!” Gabriel says. “We played a bunch of new songs… they’re very fresh to us, that might have been audible to everyone listening” adds Mike. Sounded pretty tight from where I was standing, and there’s some good news: they’ve been hunkering down and writing for a new album, hopefully out next summer. What’s influencing their new material? For Gabriel, “it’s not been a year of new music. I’ve been retreating into older stuff like Jonathan Richman, punk bands like Sham 69, the classics I liked when I was younger”. If you want to hear them for yourself (and you really should), you can catch them for a Christmas show at London’s George Tavern on the 13th December. Recommendations for the rest of the day? “Treeboy & Arc, we’re biased, as we’re good mates with them, but they’re wicked”. KEG also get a mention. The sounds of Our Girl already emanate from the main stage, so we wrap up with Mike revealing a desire to get some unreleased material “just sitting on our computers” out there: “that’s my opinion, I might get told off by the rest of the band”. Sorry for dropping you in it Mike… you won’t be shy of fans keen to listen based on today’s reception, though.
Yowl (Photo: Ollie Franklin)
Treeboy & Arc are next up, representing Leeds’ strong post-punk scene. The hype attached to them - more than a few of the other bands and attendees today have mentioned them as one to watch - is quickly justified with the excellent opening two-punch of ‘Never Again’ and ‘Personal Best’. Singer Ben Morgan exhorts with the power of a preacher, relentless martial drumbeats whipping the atmosphere to a fever pitch. The crowd are instantly hooked. Touches of arpeggiated synth add motorik drive, and while Morgan’s lyrics are feverishly delivered, it is with perfect clarity: every stream-of-consciousness word sinks in. Set closer ‘The Condor’, a highlight from their excellent EP Life Preserver, builds its killer bassline and shimmering guitars to an undeniable crescendo. The band give it their all. Anyone attending surely walks away converted.
How was it for singer Ben and bassist James? “Really good, really fun, very, very hot”, offers Ben. James agrees, adding his appreciation for the energy of what was a (deservedly) lively crowd. It turns out a potential Sheffield connection for the band - a photoshopped Chris Wilder appears in one of their social media posts - is mostly a red herring, as they’re all proud Leeds fans. Petty inter-city rivalries fall by the wayside in the joyous and inclusive space of Jarred Up festival, of course. 2025 has seen Treeboy & Arc finish a new record, due to be released next year, and an appearance at Krankenhaus Festival in the Lake District. “That was really good, really fun festival. Next to a castle, we got to see some birds of prey, do some obstacle courses”. Sadly, no such extracurricular activities today, but they’ve enjoyed themselves: Yowl get a shoutout for their excellent set, and KEG and Do Nothing are Ben and James’ most anticipated sets to come. What can we expect from the new album? “It’s a bit more synth and arpeggiator heavy”, says James. “More grooves, more refined, more thought-out, more mature”, offers Ben. “We’re anxious to get it out”. On today’s evidence, we should all be anxious to hear it.
Treeboy & Arc (Photo: Ollie Franklin)
Seven-piece KEG are the Basement’s headliners, and anyone down early enough to see the soundcheck gets an idea of what to expect; singer Albert Haddenham extorts sound from his stage monitor with yowls and gestures, like a medium summoning a wayward spirit. Thoroughly entertaining for the crowd, maybe less fun for sound tech Dan sorting out the myriad instruments on stage, but shout out Dan: by the time the set is in full flow, the balance is spot-on, capturing every element of KEG’s expansive sound. Said sound is hard to describe without sounding contradictory. It’s irreverent, but studious. Meandering but meticulous. Whirls around with the fickleness of a storm but hits with the precision of a lightning strike. Most of all - it’s really fucking fun. Haddenham’s lyrics trade in the meaningful whimsy of Robert Wyatt, all set to a backdrop of trombone, bursts of synth and shifting rhythms. Choosing a highlight is hard, but ‘Sate the Worm’s killer hook and seamless transition between textures has been a favourite of mine from their album Fun’s Over for a while: live, it’s utterly compelling. By the end, everything’s a little bit hot and sweaty, as all great Basement gigs should be. KEG and crowd alike depart for some much-needed fresh air and refreshment before much-anticipated festival headliners Do Nothing play.
KEG (Photo: Ollie Franklin)
As Do Nothing take the stage, the Fall’s ‘Lost in Music’ plays. Whether it’s a deliberate choice or just playlist serendipity, it’s an apt soundtrack for the end of an intensely scheduled day of music. Can our headliners rouse one last burst of energy? Of course they can, the crowd hooked from the first moment frontman Chris Bailey’s distinctive sprechsegang kicks in over their moody, groove-led post-punk. Look once, he’s a crooning lounge singer, all snakelike movement and vocal control. Look again, he’s the embodiment of sound and fury, barely restrained anger palpable. I spot members of KEG collectively marvelling at one particularly impressive vocal switch-up. The lyrics are equally, joyfully erratic: passive-aggressive turns of phrase, wry confessions and pop-culture quotes make killer standalone lines (“say something, goddamn it, you're on TV!”) while forming a greater picture of frustration and anxiety with late-stage capitalist society.
The rest of the four-piece deserve mention. Some of Charlie Howarth’s overdriven basslines deserve hall-of-fame status, the thumping groove of ‘Lebron James’ drawing instant cheers from the crowd. Kasper Sandstrom does more with one guitar than some bands do with three, effortlessly shifting between choppy rhythms and sinister leads. Underpinning it all, Andy Harrison’s versatile drum work fits each track perfectly, giving a particularly fine display on closer ‘Handshakes’ as he veers between sinuous hi-hat work and rousing crescendos.
It’s an excellent closing set for as good a second edition of a festival as you could hope for. No great outdoors, no stunning architecture, no 45-minute walks: just impeccably curated, tight-knit day of music. Bands and audience alike a complete delight throughout. I think this whole Jarred Up Festival thing might catch on…
Words: Dave Cuthbertson
Photos: Ollie Franklin
