On the 17th of April at 22:14 the floor of The Victoria in Dalston was laden with a bountiful harvest. Daikon, leek and spring onion decorated the cement ground as a crowd lingered, almost unable to shake the spell cast on them just moments prior. The perpetrators of this healthy mass hysteria were London’s Ignoring Izzy, holding a celebration of the release of their second single, 'Motorway Musk'.
Since the release of their first single, “What I Need” on Halloween of 2025, Ignoring Izzy have enraptured the underground, rapidly luring in new fans with their deliciously disruptive siren songs. Made up of lead singer Isadora Pulman, vocalist and synth player Finn Kverndal, guitarist Alex Wrey, bassist Joseph Smith, saxophonist Freddie Graham and Kiry Valambhia on drums, the band are undoubtedly one of the most exciting new live acts. Music Is To Blame were present at the 'Motorway Musk' launch party to pick the band’s brains on their creative process, understand their affinity with the open road, and, most importantly, take some spring onions home for dinner.
From the moment the band take their places on the stage, there is an immediate force that drags you headfirst towards them, as if you were a cartoon character drifting towards a freshly baked pie left idly on a windowsill. The set opened with a choral rendition of 'Motorway Musk', a beginning of mass, a call to arms. The rich layered vocals then gave way to the organised chaos of the new single. A scratchy guitar riff and a scream push the crowd headfirst into a sticky pit of synth that coats you in a thick layer of motor oil. The ups and downs of the instrumental cartoonish in nature, acting as never-ending bumps on the road, throwing the crowd every which way until all of a sudden the car hits a recently paved stretch of tarmac. The sound dives into a rich saxophone-led croon; it's nighttime, the air conditioning is a little too cold on your skin, the streetlights on the side of the road systematically whip by, and on the radio, a rich voice calls out to you. Vocalist and namesake of the group, Pulman’s luxurious, deep voice blankets the track, exuding a deep sensuality as she melts over transit. The steady pulse of the song is now entirely hypnotic. All of a sudden, the car begins to slowly speed up, the synth creeping back in, giving way to a road festering with potholes, and the chaos begins again. Pulman runs in place, rivalling David Byrne in her efforts of onstage jogging. The intricate barrage of sound once again gives way, but the calmness never returns; the road is all-consuming and endless. The song can only be described as what the spaghetti junction felt like to imagine as a child who only ever heard Fenella Fudge mention it in fleeting traffic reports. A wild west of never-ending paving, making a maze out of the mundane.
Frontwoman Pulman shares that their writing process has “quite a specific formula” for achieving such an organised chaos and thick texture. She shares that “[the band] have a lot of overlapping interests and musical techniques, but I think we all have really different backgrounds. So I think we all approach the [writing] really differently, bringing different layers of cake to each song.” With each Ignoring Izzy song comes a visceral banquet of musical textures. They cite a wide array of influences from the lyricism of David Byrne, to the sounds of the extended Black Midi universe, to the peculiarities of Frank Zappa. Wrey chuckles as he recalls various friends messaging him saying that “they love the squelch” of the synth on the new single. Each instrument brings a wildly different flavour to the soundscape of the band. Saxophonist Graham shares what influences his approach to soundscaping: “I think adding pedals to the sax adds a lot of possibilities, it’s like extending the instrument to a whole new level.” Bassist Smith is well studied when it comes to jazz, which he uses to his full potential. “It’s nice to add some improvisation, I usually don’t play the same things at any two gigs.”
After brief introductions Ignoring Izzy began their antics yet again. The band laughs as they interact, Pulman dancing around them before jumping into the crowd to chew on an audience member’s hair. There is an innate sense of the theatrical in every move the band makes. There is a unique playfulness in the band’s live performance that is afforded to them by the breadth of their musical ideas. In an environment where many bands may take themselves too seriously, Ignoring Izzy wears their silliness on their sleeve. Kvernal highlights that as a group Ignoring Izzy “don’t really have any inhibitions when it comes to what we’re doing, so if something sounds fun it’ll probably end up in a song”. Pulman agrees, “I've been in so many band environments or collaborative music environments where there's some sort of apprehension from bringing something to a session or workshopping a tune for fear of sounding silly. But I think that is completely non-existent in our setting, and I think that's reflected in our music. Any kind of silly concept does tend to work its way in in some capacity.” The band agree, stating that they have only had to reject two or three silly ideas in the entire time they have been writing together. “I really love a comedy band” announces the vocalist, “not that I’m saying that we are one. Maybe we are… Maybe not…” Suddenly, a revelation springs from the lips of Graham; “Finn and Alex were in a comedy band!” That band is Chipfish. “Chipfish is probably a big element to Finn and I's writing relationship, we used to write a lot of that stuff together.” Pulman goes on to say that she found writing with Ignoring Izzy to be a weight off of her shoulders, “DAMN!! I CAN WRITE WEIRD SHIT, AND IT’S FINE!!!” The words sound like an exaltation as they come pouring out of her mouth. The relief of the shedding of serious expectations is apparent in her unruly stage presence.
By this point, “Motorway Musk” had been out in the world for one week, and its accompanying music video had been released a few days prior. The band agree that it’s nice to finally have the song beheld “in the eyes (and ears) of the beholders”, noting that they’ve seen an influx in psychobilly fans - something they didn’t quite expect but are accepting with open arms. A product of “late nights of delirium” according to Pulman, the “Motorway Musk” video is something the group are “really proud of”. The video sees the band crammed into a car cruising through London at night. The band are now fully aware of the trials and tribulations of transport-based shooting. “There were some quite aggressive U-turns, I was the beneficiary of injury”, Valambhia laughs. “There were a lot of open boots with people hanging out the back,” adds Wrey. This was only in the support car, but Pulman wishes she had the chance “just to know what it feels like.” Graham did get the opportunity to feel the late-night London breeze on his skin as he stuck out of the car’s sunroof to play the saxophone, Oxford Street’s Christmas lights playing background characters – “It was a bucket-list item I never thought I had”. After the experience, Ignoring Izzy bumper stickers is soon to be on the menu. “Why don’t we just make full bumpers?” Wrey asks, “or decals?” says Valambhia, excitedly. The six-piece agrees that if it all goes downhill, they could start a garage or a daikon farm.
An Ignoring Izzy show, much like their sound, is a complete sensory experience. It is also one of your five-a-day. Perhaps even three or four out of the five. As the band launches into their final song of the night, a still unreleased track about losing your mum in a supermarket, Pulman picks up a shopping bag. This bag, as the audience will come to learn, is filled with fresh produce. As the song builds, Pulman begins to reach into the bag, removing some spring onions, taking each stick from the bouquet and throwing them into the audience. Then came the leeks, the singers' bite marks visible as they flew through the air and into the faces of the crowd below them. Finally, Pullman wields a daikon, taking aggressive bites into the radish as she sings. The daikon has become the unofficial seventh member of the group, even taking its turn on the saxophone as Izzy plonks it into the instrument. “He hates when I do that”, laughs the singer. “It’s quite hard to play when there’s a daikon in the saxophone, funnily enough”, quips Graham. All of a sudden, from the depths of those dancing below them comes an arm, wielding a toothbrush, completely serendipitously. The singer begins to brush her teeth and those of her bandmates, taking bites of the daikon in between brushes. This was the first show, according to the band, that the crowd fought back. Leeks flew like missiles, smacking instruments, only to be launched straight back, flying into miscellaneous tote bags and knocking off caps. The reverse pillory has been a staple of the band’s shows for some time. “Sometimes there are people waving at me to throw them some spring onions,” laughs Pulman, “when we do throw the veg it’s usually a good response.” “We had a couple of people in Sheffield taking them home to use for their dinner”, Graham reminisces.
Ignoring Izzy’s 'Motorway Musk' Tour has wrapped up, but the band can still be found, veg in hand, playing shows around London and across the country. It is imperative you catch them in the act; there is nothing quite like fighting off unidentified flying vegetables while being serenaded by their unique squelch of synths. They can be found online here, and have plenty more music to unleash on the unsuspecting general public.
Eylem Boz
Image: Lucas Hui