If you’re looking to spend your Sunday afternoon with the world’s only seven-fingered pianist singing songs about existential crisis, then you’ve come to the right place. Because that’s exactly what Carol Hodge does – and does brilliantly.
Hodge, one of the most compelling songwriters we’ve got in this country, performs with an openness and wit that makes every lyric hit harder. Her albums have always carried that blend of intimacy and insight, but when she plays them in a room like Katie Fitzgerald’s – where the crowd actually listens – she’s unstoppable.
The set begins with “The Price,” a song about self-reflection, and “You Don’t Dream Enough,” written when she was effectively homeless, living out of her car. It’s the sort of wisdom that feels lived-in. There’s the bittersweet “Fallibility,” written for her ex (who, she tells us, actually liked it), and even a song about tinnitus that somehow turns into a rallying cry rather than a lament.
She delivers “Silhouettes” with stunning tenderness, whispering the final lines into a hush, before “The Queen of the Inning” explores her neurodivergence with raw honesty. She finishes with “Twenty Miles Up,” reckoning that holding onto hope is the only real option we have in 2025 — and you know what, she’s probably right.
The early start means she can head home for tea and a good book afterwards, and as she jokes her way through the set, there’s a warmth that fills the room. It’s performance as therapy – not just for her, but for everyone watching. Oh, and Carol, I do know what a Bittern is…
Which brings us to Headsticks.
Before we get into it, I’ve got a bone to pick with frontman Andrew Tranter. For years, I’ve followed the band – first catching them supporting The Wildhearts back in 2018 – and I’ve always believed that the football team in their song “What Do You Want?” was Stoke City. After all, they’re from Stoke-on-Trent and they’re the only team to count. Turns out, after some banter with bassist Nick Bayes, Tranter actually supports Manchester United. I don’t know if I can listen to them the same way again…
Moving on – Headsticks remain a wonderful band, one that has carved out their own lane of passionate, politically charged punk rock that manages to be both furious and full of heart. Their set – clocking in at around an hour and forty minutes – is packed with energy, empathy, and singalongs.
They open with “Keyboard Warriors,” a sharp swipe at the online scammers and loudmouths who plague modern life, and follow it with “The God Song” and “Cold,” both delivered with that trademark grit.
There’s a story about the chaos of getting to the gig – having played London the day before, a detour to Chessington was needed to retrieve a guitar left in a hotel. Anyone who’s ever driven through the capital will feel their pain.
The anger in the set, however, is directed where it belongs: upwards. “Dying for a Lie” spits venom at those in power, while “Paper Flowers” tackles the senseless deaths of war with acoustic poignancy. “This Ain’t Politics” and “Ashes” are defiant and full of truth, before “Pantomime” (oh yes it does!) brings the tempo back up.
“Miles and Miles” and “I Keep You Alive” – the latter featuring Carol Hodge on vocals – are genuine highlights. There’s chemistry and conviction in every note. Then comes the poetic rush of “On Top of the World,” and the stormy “Dark Waters,” which bridges perfectly into “Tyger Tyger” – a crowd favourite that turns into a communal singalong.
From there, it’s “Each and Every Day,” “St. George’s Infirmary,” and “Apocalypse,” before they close the main set with the powerful “Peace and Quiet” – a track they describe as an “ecological war cry.”
But they’re not done yet. The encore – “Mississippi Burning,” “Flatline Town,” and “My Own War” – reinforces everything Headsticks stand for: unity, resistance, and community.
The four-piece are a band who play for the people – and, on afternoons like this, with the people. They’re angry, articulate, and utterly essential.
They may be preaching to the converted, but they’re all the better for it. And as they say themselves, if these “endless bloody nights” can be made just a little more bearable, then that’s a victory. That’s what Headsticks provide.
