Mould – Thekla, Bristol – 29/10/2026

I spy with my little eye a smiling, buzzing, jovial Mould frontman, Joe Sherrin, sat outside the pub opposite Thekla. As always, he's wearing shorts. He informs me he's left his voice in Birmingham, but his heart is very much in Bristol. The setlist, meanwhile, is still TBC. I'd like to think I delivered a decent Mouldivation speech and will therefore take full credit for everything that followed.

I confess: I'm an idiot. I'd never seen Sans Froid before. However, I did recognise a certain Bristol supergroup vocalist. Ellie Godwin, also of Peach, was warming up that ridiculously good voice whilst also wielding a guitar. The first thing to say about Sans Froid is that you need to hear Back Into the Womb. It grabbed me by the scruff of my black T-shirt and held me close.

Thankfully, the live set did exactly the same.

Within seconds of the drilling opening riff of GO ON to the glass-shattering register of Aisling Whiting's vocals, everything about this band screamed power. Imagine having two vocalists of such distinctive potency in one band. It's hard to imagine anyone liking rock music and not liking this band.

Their voices hit me right in the chest. Such command, such control, with the capacity to rip your heart out and sing it back to you.

Back Into the Womb takes my brain to an incredible place. Its warmth soothes and lulls you before twisting into a jazzy, serpentine riff. The vocal performance demands the audience's full attention and respect.

The colossal set eventually has to end somewhere, and it concludes with a thunderous drumming display from Toby Green, who throws every ounce of himself into the climax of The Exploiter of Art.

They play Exchange on December 4th.

Go. Go. Go.

It's Mould time. Nearly.

Joe and drummer James hold their pre-match team talk on stage while the setlist is finalised in a flurry of scribbles, Sharpie in one hand and herbal tea in the other. Cameras surround Thekla to document and celebrate Mould's biggest Bristol headline show to date.

Jesus wept on a boat.

They hit me exactly where I want to be hit. How's your voice, Joe?

Fine, apparently. Misanthrope is the perfect set opener and album opener. It is frenetic, kinetic and utterly monstrous. The song continually recharges itself, with escalating energy before tying itself in knots to an explosive finish.

"You don't always have to be strong," Joe screams, possibly at his own vocal cords.

The band's glorious three-piece noise is fully loaded and firing on every drumbeat. The lyrical mastery of Float shines through before Lists completes a three-song statement of intent. Flag firmly planted in the ground:

MOULD ROCK, OK?

I'm intensely excited, as is everyone around me.

Lucid is a rousing belter, its chorus diving headfirst into the Avon before emerging in surging waves of crunching guitars. Joe's guitar and James' drums combine like bat and ball, launching everything out of the park.

I love seeing the passionate faces singing along around me. The band are loving it too. Joe beams with appreciation at a crowd packed with fans, family and friends. For some, this is their first highly anticipated Mould experience, creating an atmosphere that is equal parts celebration, support and absolute chaos.

Every Mould set is as fast as it is good. They gallop through song after song at a relentless pace. I know Chunks is coming and the end is nye.

With a little consensual assistance from fellow revellers, I'm airborne, surfing the crest of the Mould crowd before dropping back down and giving someone else the chance to do the same.

I leave glowing, carried by the warmth and energy in the room, reminded yet again that Mould are one of the best live bands around.

Ears ring.

Excitement sings

You are Mould.

Always believe in your Mould.