“ALL KILLER AND NO FILLER!”
Wolfmother’s return to Bristol marked their first appearance at the venue in a decade, and they kicked off their latest tour with the kind of energy that made the ten-year wait feel worth it. Warm outside, feral inside, this was a room that knew exactly why it had turned up.
The Support
The night opened with a surprise local support slot from Mother Vulture, Bristol’s own high-octane rock outfit, and the hometown crowd made their appreciation known instantly. Rocky, moody, and unmistakably local, with dark, pulsating guitar and drum work that made it feel like midnight at 7 pm on a summer’s evening. The singer swung between a growling scream and a soaring falsetto, drifting into a crooning, almost cinematic register before snapping back into something that leaned Manic Street Preachers in its intensity. The band asked early on if the crowd would be joining them again in December, and the answer, in the form of a very enthusiastic and largely incoherent roar, was yes. They closed on Phoenix, the singer jigging across the stage while the guitarist slapped his bandmate’s backside mid-song, the kind of easy, brotherly chaos that only comes from a band who’ve clearly been having the time of their lives together for a while now.
The band have kept up a relentless pace on the live circuit in recent years, with festival slots at ArcTanGent, Bloodstock, Bearstone in Croatia, Leopallooza, Steelhouse, and Burn It Down, alongside support runs with the likes of Airbourne, Skindred, Reef, Feeder, Battlesnake, ’68, Steel Beans, Jamie Lenman, and Bokassa. Not a bad set of stages to have shared.
Photography: Emma Painter
Words by: Rhiannon Ellen
Next up were The Howlers, a London duo dealing in catch-your-breath rock, all blue-lit stage and soulful, nostalgic songwriting built for mixtapes and lyrics made to be sung straight back at the band. “How you doing, you alright?” the guitarist asked, and the room answered with the kind of noise you don’t expect this early into a gig night. More mainstream and aesthetic-led than either Mother Vulture or Wolfmother, with more than a passing nod to early Oasis and Arctic Monkeys, though it’s anyone’s guess whether they’d thank you for the comparison. A tough night for their merch table too, with the band revealing they’d had their takings stolen on the road, a rough break for a group clearly earning every fan in that room the hard way.
Photography: Emma Painter
Words by: Rhiannon Ellen
Wolfmother
“Hello Bristol.” Two words, and the room was theirs.
Frontman Andrew Stockdale led the charge with commanding vocals and face-melting guitar work from the opening bars of Dimension, and it was clear this wasn’t going to be a night for standing still. One photographer in the pit summed it up best: brilliant to shoot, impossible to actually capture, because none of them stays still for a second.
Woman hit hard, all raw intensity, the kind of performance where you could see every word land in the way the singer’s face and neck strained with it. This was not a band coasting through muscle memory; this was a band still fully in it.
The set moved through moody, pulsating stretches of dark, driving guitar before pulling back into Mind’s Eye, all melodic guitar and a slower, jaunty pull that had the crowd locked into the same headspace as the band, somewhere between swaying and headbanging and not quite committing to either.
New Moon Rising brought the tempo back up before rolling straight into Vagabond, uptempo and unrelenting, all raspy falsetto screams sliding into instrumental sections that had the barrier practically vibrating. Joker and the Thief landed exactly where a set like this needs it, a proper crowd pleaser that tipped into a small mosh right on cue.
By the time the set built toward its final stretch, the whole room was clapping and stamping in unison, the kind of moment where a venue the size of the O2 Academy briefly feels like a room a tenth of the size. One fan near the front, clearly a BIG fan, could only manage to shout “I FUCKING LOVE YOU” between songs, which felt like it spoke for most of the room.
Special mention to the fan spotted mid-gig who’d travelled from Oxford, further even than the Glasgow contingent, to be there. He mentioned meeting the band earlier in the pub across the road, where they’d spotted him in their merch and offered to take a photo with him. Small gesture, big impression, and exactly the kind of story that turns a one-off gig-goer into a fan for life.
The encore was loudly and repeatedly demanded, and duly delivered, closing out a set built with real intention: high to low, low to high, never letting the room settle for too long. One fan remarked that their shows are “all killer and no filler” which was totally fair comment.
The Setlist
Dimension
White Unicorn
Woman
Apple Tree
Midnight Train
Pyramid
Mind’s Eye
New Moon Rising
California Queen
Feelin Love
Where Eagles Have Been
Vagabond
Colossal
Joker And The Thief
Love Train
Victorious
The Verdict
All killer, no filler, delivered by a band that makes it look like the most natural thing in the world, backed by two support acts who more than earned their spot on the bill. Bristol showed up early, stayed loud, and left louder. Ten years between visits is a long time, but on this evidence, Wolfmother won’t be waiting that long to come back.
Photography: Emma Painter
Words by: Rhiannon Ellen
