Harsh Noise Lollipops – 1MU at Supersonic ‘26 Part 2
Natasha Taheem’s block printed protest banners. © Eduardo Pinto
Supersonic Festival is a celebration of many things – the extremities of music and sound; radical politics; and inclusivity at all costs. To that list, we must also add its home, the area of Digbeth, and creativity as a whole. This was apparent at the Zellig building, a collection of independent businesses and artist studios which, for the first day of the festival, hosted a wonderful market of artisans, goths, bakers, and creative workshops, open to everybody. While a highly in-demand and limited instrument building workshop was beyond my reach, others, like a miniature protest banner-making session with printmaker Natasha Taheem, were not only opportunities for spontaneous creativity for the wristband-wearing bourgeoise, but for the local community as a whole – Supersonic’s gift to the community that’s hosted them for 2 decades and counting.
MMM at Supersonic ‘26. © Robert Barrett
The first few minutes of Saturday’s opening act, MMM, a new collaboration between musicians and sound artists Gayle Brogan, Nick Jonah Davis and Elizabeth Still, suggested something equally delightful, if somewhat sedate – birdsong filled the air, while gentle guitars accompanied a slideshow of standing stones. This suggestion, as it turns out, was wrong. Guitars began to rumble, synth lines began to pile up, and the slides turned to strobes, in what became a full-on sensory post-rock assault, as heavy as the Calanais Stones on the Isle of Lewis that inspired the group.
Exciting new work such as that by MMM is part of the festival’s remit, so it was no surprise that two more bands made debut or otherwise embryonic performances over the weekend.
Bong II at Supersonic ‘26. © Joe Singh
Newcastle doom trio Bong went on something of a hiatus a few years ago. During that time, one member left, while another transitioned. So it makes sense, paying tribute to kosmiche legends Amon Düül and their reincarnated form, that they should reunite as Bong II. Now accompanied by Daniel Foggin of Smote on guitar, drummer Mike Smith and vocalist-bassist Dawn Terry made their way through a thick fog of incense smoke for only their second live appearance together in several years. For a local crowd raised under the shadow of Black Sabbath, born within earshot of bone-shattering bass, ear-splitting guitars, and hypnotic rhythms, the trio certainly delivered the goods. This is heavy metal as pure texture – 50 minutes piling on sound, vocals, and noise so heavy, not only did every note hit me like a punch to the chest (my fault for standing by the bass bin?), the weight of the sound even brought Terry to her knees by the end.
Microplastics at Supersonic ‘26. © Joe Singh
Equally highly anticipated was the live band debut of Microplastics, the trio of aya, 96 Back and Jennifer Walton. With no other details ahead of time, high audience expectations were based purely on name recognition. What the underground DJ/producer supergroup delivered, however, nobody saw coming – an instrument-swapping extravaganza of doom, thrash, electronics, punk, and math rock, a mixture of originals and near-unrecognisable reinterpretations of their solo tracks, that put a smile of the face of virtually everyone in the room. Who knew that aya, behind ‘hexed!’, one of 2025’s most acclaimed electronic albums, was such a beast on the drums? More of this sort of thing please. An album, maybe?
Lucifer Sky at Supersonic ‘26. © Robert Barrett
I’ve previously shown love to Saturday’s headliners ØXN in my 2024 Supersonic roundup, so instead of repeating myself, I’ll give this space to Indira Lakshmi – visual artist and, under the name Lucifer Sky, extreme throat singer and noise artist. Others may have been heavier, but no other act was louder this weekend. Wearing a balaclava, Lakshmi’s mouth and the sounds coming forthwith are clearly the focus, but if there are lyrics here, they are indecipherable. While there are moments of quiet solace, they are few and far between, though when the beats kick in, and we move from harsh noise to rhythmic noise, the set comes together quite beautifully. Kudos also for the best merch of the festival – branded lollipops that turn your tongue black. Bravo.
Less deafening sounds came from a pair of folk experimentalists. Harry Gorski Brown, native of Glasgow, took to the stage with only a laptop and a set of bagpipes, before proceeding to build layers of pipes and drones to stunning effect. Speaking of pipes – what a voice. He explains “the (general) theme of every song – someone dies,” so its to his immense credit that he expresses himself vocally with the mourning it deserves, and the power needed to elevate this to something quite remarkable, easily filling the Crossing’s main stage. Over on the smaller Canteen stage, Peiriant offering initially appears more gentle, mixing electric guitar and violin into immersive soundscapes. Snatches of distortion hint at something darker, but it never quite emerges. Instead, midway through the set, a percussion part risks turning into something, dare I suggest, funky? Whatever it was, they were a very pleasant surprise, and a nice palette cleanser following something far heavier.
Uroceras Gigas of Guttersnipe at Supersonic ‘26. © Sam Frank Wood
One of the highlights of Supersonic ‘24, and of that year in music in general, was the Welsh-language gothic trio Tristwch y Fenywod. I was loosely aware of one of them having another group, but had completely forgotten about it until I saw her – Gwretsien Ferch Lisbeth in 2024; Uroceras Gigas here; Gretchen Aury to the Inland Revenue – walk on stage with drummer Tipula Confusa as part of Leeds-based duo Guttersnipe. I would not forget that name in a hurry though, because for the 45 extraordinary, high-octant minutes they were on stage, promoting new LP ‘Extinction Burst!’, they provided a much needed Sunday wake-up call with a mutant blend of psychedelia, no-wave, and extreme metal, coupled with a political war-cry against the crises destroying civilisation, and the bastards who exacerbate them. Queer, antifascist, xenofeminist, very noisy, and with tongue in cheek – this is what Supersonic is all about. Which feels like as good a place as any to end this year’s coverage.
With all the pressures festival promoters Capsule are clearly under, Supersonic ‘26 feels like a gift. To have put something like this together, in a political and financial climate that seems intent on crushing gatherings espousing a radical philosophy, is a little miracle. That artistic director Lisa Meyer and her team did it to such a high quality, with a genuinely exciting and innovative line up? That’s skill. See you next year x
© Eduardo Pinto
