Norwich is a city with a deep undercurrent of cool musical culture, especially if you dig around in the undergrowth, and this early spring Saturday evening certainly produced the goods for these hungry ears. The streets were fizzing with sound as hen parties and revellers spilled out onto the pavements from previously rustic pubs now pumping out four to the floor electronic dance music for the masses. But that is just the lacquered surface, the market‑tested throb designed for anyone itching to torch their disposable income on a lukewarm slurry of booze, uppers, decibels, and collective delusion—an environment where musical discernment peaks at a sweaty, unexamined “tune!” But fear not, just step past the pizza serving mask of Voodoo Daddy’s, toward the bar where the air hums with vintage rock ’n’ roll or sandpaper‑rough nineties grunge, and suddenly you are certain you’ve found the place where the night actually begins. Explore the downward steps behind an unassuming side door and you step into a room that, tonight, sparkles with the kaleidoscopic colour and swirling sound of music that has its roots among the audio space cadets of the twentieth century whilst firmly planting a flag in our 2026 soil.

First up with the live thrills are a female duo with a bold, iconic look. Lassie are Emily Winng, whose thick mop of electric red hair glows like a fire under the stage lighting and Camille Davila, who fuses post‑punk sharpness with gothic elegance and a cool, Lennox‑like femininity. Their stage presence is a combination of mysterious and daring with a welcome dose of the personable thrown in; Emily turning a sound man directed request for less echo on her vocal into almost farcical slapstick. However, it is musically where these two are a serious proposition. Their harmonious vocals recall the dark angelic tones that Leonard Cohen used to appreciate so much in his backing singers, whilst Camille’s trebly guitar textures are both ethereal and the sound of an atmospheric vintage b-movie. Add to that Emily’s Bow Wow Wow referencing tribal drumming, which her partner occasionally doubles up on, with an inescapable mix of raw immediacy and deep song-based concepts and Lassie are a ridiculously enjoyable opening act. I later find out that they are currently preparing a debut album which, I confidently predict, will result in the number of voices singing their praises growing dramatically.

I loved the contrasts in the acts tonight and the most seismic shift was felt with the departure of Lassie and the arrival of Scott Hepple And The Sun Band. They are a four piece down from the north of England who in 2025 released their third album ‘English Mustard,’ produced by the analogue supremo of the recording studio, Liam Watson. Maybe it is this connection that sees Scott Hepple’s group described as a psychedelic, garage rock band but that terminology alone will not prepare you for the amplified assault this band unleash on their audience. They open their set like a demolition crew on double time, almost like they need to clear the decks of all residues before they can truly begin to build and concoct their magic. And magic there certainly is with these boys; they are playing music that stretches over valleys way beyond the three-minute garage template you might expect. This band play a hard-edged blues rock that has progressive threads and plenty of space for wild, stimulated instrumental wigging out. There is more than a touch of Free’s Paul Rodgers phrasing to Scott’s fronting of this band, that long haired, booze-soaked swagger is evident too but there is a voltage enhanced joy in expression with the Sun Band that is all their own. This kind of conviction can only come from a group with serious intent and, above all, talent.

Tonight’s third and final band, The Crystal Teardrop, also released an album in 2025, and they too worked with producer Liam Watson to make ‘The Crystal Teardrop Is Forming.’ Everything about this group screams UK psych, from the Beatles Hofner violin bass guitar to the Brian Jones Vox Teardrop plectrum shaped axe of singer Alexandra Rose marrying perfectly with her go-go girl stylings, even the keyboard player looks like he has walked in from the set of an open university programme lecturing on chemistry. But do they have the music to back up the direction their fashion sense points them in? Well indeed they do, in fact, where their album hones their psych-pop vision into sharp focus, in this live setting they can see for miles and miles. I have not caught The Crystal Teardrop before so maybe this is normal for them, but it felt to me like they reacted to the volcanic eruptions of the previous band and took to the stage determined to tap into that same energy and passion. Evidently motivated as well as revelling in what was a fun-packed Saturday night for all of us, they lobbed their sixties‑psych glow straight into 2026, finding eager believers ready to carve out a place for it in the modern musical wilds. With the horrors of war in the backdrop to all our lives today, it felt apt too that they chose to climax their set with a motherlode of psychedelic freaking out. Somehow, the final sonic collapse of all the wondrousness that had preceded it, from all three acts, felt like a nailed-on representation of the moment we live in. It also reminded me that, no matter what else we are contending with in the outside world, brilliant music can frequently make it better. Look deeper, great things are always happening.

Words: Danny Neill Photos: Sophie Reichert