LIVE REVIEW: Manchester Psych Fest 2025

Manchester Psych Fest is a one-day multi venue event which showcases the most exciting new music from a wide range of genres, cultures and regions from around the world. At its core is the celebration of the unique, the alternative, the acts that stand in opposition to existing scenes and sounds. The lineup is carefully curated and takes account of the approach, vision and aim of the act’s art and performances. I was lucky enough to catch three sets across the day that embodied this notion beautifully.  

W H Lung

It’s never an easy task opening a festival, let alone when your debut release is less than a year old. For Westside Cowboy, however this situation poses no challenge. The foursome takes to the stage, beginning softly…slowly…teetering, the entire crowd lingers on their every move. The room is ready to combust with excitement, and a flicker emerges in the form of ‘I’ve Net Met Anyone I Thought I Could Really Love (Until I Met You)’. The exhilarating debut single provides the fuse that lights the match, the room set alight like burning wildfire. Raucous drumming and thrashing guitar sounds rise from the stage like steam from a whistling kettle, before falling in the form of dazzling gold glitter, showering the bodies below. ‘Shells’ appears coyly, almost reluctantly, like a child unwilling to leave their parents arms on the first day of term. Softly delivered harmonies over gentle guitar lines glow incandescently.

Typical of a Westside Cowboy set, in a heartbeat, an explosion punctuated by the sudden introduction of hard-hitting drums jump starts the crowd. ‘Alright Alright Alright’ maintains the energy, stoking the fire of the now intense flames that burn from the centre of the stage. The crowd now warmed up in more ways than one, move with the vibration of energy flowing in and around them. Westside Cowboy may be new, may be young, but are growing and with every new song and set are becoming the most exciting band to watch. 

DEADLETTER

If you’ve been privileged enough to watch DEADLETTER perform before, you’ll know it’s a good idea to leave any pre-conceived notions of live music at the door. Arriving to the stage a few short moments after the rest of the band, lead vocalist Zac Lawrence, in a frenetic state, quickly commands the attention of the former dancehall venue. ‘Credit To Treason’ kicks in and furiously awakens the beast that lies waiting in many a Psych Fest crowds, the mosh pit. Coursing through the crowd, the sounds from the stage inject a feverish disposition into the room sending the bodies above the sprung dance floor bouncing. ‘Mere Mortal’ twists and turns, with the unnerving sounds of the saxophone whirling mysteriously. ‘Binge’ sees Lawrence dive into the crowd (not for the first time) dividing the melee of moshers, as if he’s Moses parting the Red Sea.

Submerged in hysteria a cue from Lawrence signals the entire room to jump. The conventional rules that apply to most gigs; the band on the stage, the fans in the crowd, the barrier that separates the two don’t apply here. Instead, band and crowd are one, everyone together, everyone equal. The rule book is thrown out the window and, in the process, old principles are reset, lost beliefs awoken and a new religion is birthed, DEADLETTER.  

In the 600-capacity venue carved out of a once derelict archway that is now Gorilla, Adult DVD step on to stage. The room is full to the brim and buzzing with excitement. The beeping sounds of opener ‘Do Something’ stir the crowd into motion, triggering heads to bop. The combination of synths, casually delivered lyrics about fishing and meeting the King coalesce with strobe lights to create an acid house euphoria that spills from the stage, washing over the crowd.

ADULT DVD by James Mumby

‘Sadman Mancave’ beats at the door of your sub-conscious, before finally finding the key that turns the lock to effortlessly seep into your mind. Lyrics referencing Top Gear and Page 3 over endless synth lines and beats reminiscent of Working Men’s Club leave the whole room in one weird, but breathtaking trance. ‘Bill Murray’, a more notable songs of the bands catalogue produces smiles across the faces of the already dancing crowd. As the song reaches its breakdown, underlined by heavy electronic elements, you’d be mistaken for thinking you’ve left the festival and entered a club night.

Lost in space and time, the room is on another plane, separate to the festival, separate to the city that lays claim to it. Courtesy of Adult DVD’s concoction of beeps, buzzes and fantasized lyrics, Gorilla is now in a parallel universe and far from ever reaching the real world again.