Twenty years on from ‘A Certain Trigger’, Maxïmo Park are still finding new ways to make a room feel electric - but before they even stepped on stage, Bristol was already buzzing thanks to a blistering, charismatic set from Art Brut. The cult heroes tore through ‘Unprofessional Wrestling’, ‘Emily Kane’ and ‘Wonder’, each one landing like a relatable and joyous punchline. Eddie Argos’ half-sung, half-spoken delivery remains a masterclass in chaotic charm; the crowd lapped up every self-deprecating moment. It set the tone for a night built on personality as much as performance.
When Maxïmo Park arrived, they did so with the kind of swagger only a band celebrating a 20th anniversary can muster. Paul Smith surveyed the room with a grin and declared - ‘it seems like a weekend crowd”, and Bristol rose to meet the challenge - loud, loose, and ready. Though the tour is built around their debut, the night felt like more of a celebration of the band’s entire emotional universe. They dug deep into the catalogue, pulling out songs they “haven't played in a while”, including a surprise airing of ‘The Night I Lost My Head’. Smith admitted it had been ages since it was last played live, but they wanted to play it for Bristol, and the crowd showed their appreciation. They even dropped ‘North by North East’ - a rarity saved for the “hardcore fans” - and the room responded like they’d been waiting all night for that moment.
Smith was in full raconteur mode throughout, peppering the set with anecdotes that swung between absurd and heartfelt. At one point, he explained about the Geordie habit of dropping the ‘h’ in “away man”, before joking that the crowd could “drop their pants to get his attention”. Seconds later, he pivoted into a reflection on the band’s songwriting: how their tracks are “angsty and romantic,” how they’re about bonding over the people you love and the songs you share. That thought led neatly into ‘Favourite Songs,’ introduced with a deadpan quip about its “very obscure title”. It was British humour at its driest - the audience adored it.
Visually, the show was striking. The stage was built around raised blocks, and the band hopped on and off, adding a sense of motion and playfulness. Behind them, a red velvet curtain draped dramatically, catching the glow of continuous red-and-white strobes. The effect was somewhere between Twin Peaks’ Red Room and the backroom of a vintage British pub - a surreal, slightly seedy glamour that suited the band’s mix of earnestness and edge. Whether intentional or not, the Lynchian undertones gave the night a dreamlike quality: familiar songs reframed, old favourites made strange and thrilling again.
