For holders of the necessary but unenviable slot of ‘new band still looking to win the majority of their audience over’, Beauty School kick this year’s Slam Dunk off with a pretty likable showing. Granted, that’s basically a kinder way of saying that they’re getting the basics down for themselves, given that their emo-touched pop-rock orbits around a space that plenty have excelled within, some being at this very festival. That said, there’s a gusto here that’s undeniable, and ploughing through an awkwardly balanced mix that does no favours to Joe Cabrera’s voice and will afflict a lot of the day’s early portion is a good way to stake a claim, if nothing else. Right now, confidence and tenacity are their defining traits, and there’ll definitely be a few for whom that’ll encourage to stick around. • LN
6/10
Our first trip to the Rock Sound Stage today is for Australia’s Between You & Me. They’re one of the more ‘what you see is what you get’ prospects of the day; these songs aren’t the most innovative and they fall victim to speaker issues, losing lots of the nuances and character heard on the studio versions. What is lost in translation sound-wise is made up for by the band themselves though, who are all clearly thrilled with the sizeable crowd they’re playing to and have their pop punk ringleader hats firmly on (even enough to cheekily urge the crowd to raise their middle fingers to Hopeless Records). It’s hard not to feel joy watching Between You & Me have the most fun onstage (and off, when singer Jake Wilson and bassist James Karagiozis leap into the crowd for closer Deadbeat) and the fans in the crowd lapping up everything they’re being given. Today’s renditions of their songs won’t have the uninitiated running to add Between You & Me to their playlists—not their fault, but still—but the pure fun from this set makes for the perfect start to Slam Dunk. • GJ
7/10
The push behind Cassyette as of late hasn’t gone unnoticed, because how could it? She’s bagged herself blog space and festival slots with the voracity of the most healthily-watered industry plants, except there seems to actually be something here. She’s by far a greater presence onstage than most of a similar ilk, splitting the difference between glam-rock flash and a nu-metal prowl that carries a lot of individual character that definitely aids songs more suited to a live environment anyway. It helps that both she and her band just stand out visually as it is, and even if she’s hampered somewhat by a ropey vocal mix that can leave her backing track as more of a crutch than an aid, there’s enough natural swagger from all involved to tie it back together in the end. It’s definitely good—surprisingly so, even—and the credits she’ll be racking up this summer alone will only improve that further. • LN
7/10
It’s not hard to feel bad for Yours Truly sometimes. They’ve clearly got momentum within pop-punk, and while they’re decent at what they do, they often struggle to break past it. Case in point—this set today, carried by bottomless energy from Mikaila Delgado that seeks to elevate songs that just kind of fall into place. The production gremlins strike again and that steepens Yours Truly’s climb in a way that’s out of their control, but beyond the occasional chorus of a song like Hallucinate, it’s not the sort of pop-punk that’s up their with the best of the day. The fact that it’s never outright unenjoyable is a noteworthy saving grace; beyond that, it’s all rather in-keeping with the expectations of a mid-afternoon slot, for what that’s worth. • LN
6/10
We meet Meet Me @ The Altar at the Rock Scene Stage, and they’re another band facing technical woes. This time though, these issues fully trip them up, causing a long pause after opener May The Odds Be In Your Favor and killing the momentum of the set stone dead (despite attempts to get the crowd doing the macarena to tide over the wait). The sound doesn’t quite get back to normal when the band get going again, which doesn’t mesh well with the choppy nature of some of their songs; sometimes it takes a moment to register a sudden jolt in rhythm as the natural course of the song being played instead of a mistake. That said, Meet Me @ The Altar are a super fun live presence, with Hit Like A Girl and a Sweetness / My Friends Over You / Break Stuff / My Own Worst Enemy medley showing them at full power. The sound system let Meet Me @ The Altar down today, but they’ll for sure own a stage at Slam Dunk next time they’re back. • GJ
6/10
Today’s technical troubles really seem to hit fever pitch during Hot Milk’s I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I’M DEAD, in which the wall of sound held up by how monolithically loud literally everything but the vocals is skirts right past being impressive and imposing, and direct to actively deafening. Fortunately, it’s the moment that also heralds the comedown for the rest of the day, where Hot Milk can continue to impress for how they still carry themselves like the biggest band on the planet, and do it believably. The frankly staggering crowd speaks volumes right off the bat—though this band have had a pull that anyone in their shoes would kill for since the beginning—and it’s only reinforced by how Hot Milk continue to go from strength to strength within pop-rock. A more robust crop of songs now leads to more variety, as darker crunches on Glass Spiders and new one Teenage Runaways sets up a dynamic flow that makes the brightness of Wide Awake or Awful Ever After’s mega-hooks hit even more swiftly. The double-header of Han Mee and Jim Shaw fronting remains the vivacious, incendiary capper that continues to facilitate Hot Milk’s stratospheric rise, something which isn’t going to be calming down even remotely any time soon. • LN
7/10
Regardless of how great they are, Hot Water Music don’t seem to be a top-ticket draw on this bill. They’ve pulled in a sizable crowd but it isn’t one that’s notably active, though for the type of band that this is, that seems about right. With Hot Water Music and their sort of gruff-and-grizzled punk, it’s all about wearing their many road miles on their sleeve, to where great songs speak louder than any crowbarred-in flashiness or artificial geeing ever could. Chuck Ragan’s voice is another claimed casualty of a lower-than-preferred mix (though Jason Black’s bass sounds terrific), but between him and Chris Creswell, they pull out a solid showing throughout. The closing pair of Drag My Body and Trusty Chords is the sharpest showcase of where Hot Water Music’s power lies, all packed with swell and grit that’s so baked into this band’s music that it’ll never be out of frame, even if the feeling that things could go a bit better for them today is hard to ignore. • LN
6/10
There’s a huge crowd gathered at the Rock Sound Stage for Punk Rock Factory, and there’s a bit of a slow start with the band coming on late. What follows for the next twenty minutes is pretty much exactly what one would expect from a band who solely does punk covers of Disney songs and other childhood staples that would make any ‘90s kid combust from nostalgia. Choices to play their versions of less popular Encanto and Moana songs and the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers theme leave much of the crowd unengaged, but the Pokémon theme changes everything, the KennyHoopla crowd close by probably drowned out by belts of the song’s chorus. While this set provides the ephemeral sugar rush of singing old favourites (although none of the Disney cuts here predate 2009), there’s not much being offered for anyone sober or with a different idea of fun. • GJ
5/10
KennyHoopla has arrived. That’s the impression that’s so apparent from a rammed, enthusiastic tent, even after slight delays that are taken completely in stride for a set that practically bleeds a sense of excitement. Within the pop-punk climate right now, the guy’s a breath of fresh air; taking it to the stage, he’s already verging on a gold standard that would impress most scene vets. The energy is undeniable for one, as he’ll leap and climb around against a backdrop of pop-punk that’s already highly electrified and vibrant. It’s an effect of the dance-punk streak that heightens the freshness already, coupled with Kenny being a magnetic enough presence that he can already lead a capella lead-ins and singalongs and receive the bristle of excitement back of a bona fide arena-rock star. hollywood sucks// and a climactic estella// feel like the first big, proper moments of the festival so far, crackling with a firebrand energy that Kenny rides and plays with expertly. With a bit more time to grow out, this could’ve been truly special; as it stands now, still being the shining light of modern pop-punk is hardly something to sniff at. • LN
8/10
The Rock Scene tent is absolutely packed out for Knuckle Puck, and as they open with Gone, it’s clear to see why. Joe Taylor clearly takes his role as a pop-punk frontman extremely seriously, fun being present but not exactly being the name of the game. This intensity makes the crowd reaction feel life or death, people crowdsurfing and doing visceral (if clichéd) pop-punk pointing. It’s the kind of prowess that even those who aren’t already Knuckle Puck fans will tip their hat to. There’s nothing reinventing the wheel during this half hour set, but what’s displayed is top-tier, honed craft in its purest form. • GJ
8/10
In the trial-by-fire that’ll inevitably be the live performances for pop-punk’s breed of fairweather influencers, MOD SUN feels very far removed from anything like that. Yes, the man who’s current foray into the genre yielded one of its shallowest, most by-the-numbers albums can actually turn around remarkably quickly, and in an environment where the baseness of writing and themes has so much less importance, it can be a lot of fun. His experience shines through; he’s a consummate pop-rock showman, as opposed to someone just falling in line because it’s easy and lucrative. What’s more, the live stage brings out a passion that’s immediately palpable, with the prevailing image of a crop of bright green hair and a big, beaming smile in front of a crowd that’s so swept up in it all. If anything, the simplicity the most key, as the buoyant hook of Karma smashes through to kick off a run of sugary-sweet pop-punk that seldom lets up in terms of infectiousness. And sure, the elements of feeding the crowd what they want to hear can’t be ignored—the name drops for Machine Gun Kelly and Avril Lavigne illicit predictably rapturous reactions—but MOD SUN wears it with such earnestness and affability. He looks genuinely ecstatic to be here, and it translates into something monumentally exceeding of any initial expectations. • LN
7/10
There’s a commotion coming from the Jägermeister Stage, but it isn’t the breakdowns the audience here have been used to all day. The Eurodance synths can only mean one thing—Electric Callboy are here with their own brand of lunacy, ridiculous gaudy lyrics with token metalcore heaviness, packaged with all the costumes, choreography and camp of the best Eurovision entry you’ve never heard (which is partially true, they applied to represent Germany for this year’s contest). Watching the crowd throughout this set is like watching an Attenborough documentary; every group has individuals in the know about what’s about to occur onstage, the rest unaware, utterly baffled, before conceding in pure (still confused) joy. There’s no sonic let-up at any point during this set, these songs (MC Thunder and Hypa Hypa especially) achieving their glorious anthemic potenial in the sun. With these kinds of acts though, there’s always an uncertainty. Do they know they’re maybe not as good as they think they are? But during set closer We Got The Moves (while teaching everyone about their famous ‘pigeoning’ dance move), Electric Callboy lift the curtain on their motives. They’re well aware lots of people in the crowd have no idea what they’re watching, but urge them to let loose and “join the silly movement”. They’ve been fully in on the joke this whole time, and it adds a whole new level to what this field have just experienced. Not everyone in this crowd will be leaving feeling the same way, but to those in the know, Electric Callboy have redefined what ‘fun in the sun’ is. • GJ
8/10
Things feel different as Mom Jeans. take to the Key Club Stage. The vibe is chilled, more campfire-esque, the singalongs loud and the sound crisp in this smaller tent, eliminating the slightly dicey singing quality heard on the recorded versions of these songs. Bassist Sam Kless is the welcome class clown of the band, with fun-loving dancing and over the top egging on of the cheering crowd being the highlight of the whole set. But that’s not to say the songs here don’t more than stay afloat by themselves. Material from Mom Jeans.’s February record Sweet Tooth does a great job at keeping energy up, their pop hooks sounding gorgeous traversing across the tent, while earlier tracks are more obviously emotional, intricate guitar lines given a huge opportunity to shine. It’s clear Mom Jeans. thrive most in a live setting, and this set has been a lovely change of pace from the rest of today’s itinerary. • GJ
8/10
It’s a testament to just how much a confluence of factors can elevate a festival set with The Summer Set’s appearance. They’re usually a good live band through a combination of strong songs and warm, enjoyable presence, but between the beating-down sunshine and how celebratory they feel returning after so much deep-seated inner turmoil, they’re practically untouchable. The sense of rejuvenation is palpable all the way through, where Brian Dales’ voice sounds phenomenally clear and energised among a crop of pop-rock that’s been moulded to fit the band’s growth exceptionally well. The likes of Jukebox and Chelsea lean into the heartland sweep that lends them so much freshness and dimensionality, and can have just as much gusto as Street Lightning or Lightning In A Bottle that sound utterly life-affirming. As a band, they’ve never been this good, or displayed this much awareness of where their potential greatness can come from. That’s across the board too; notably, Jess Bowen has always been a phenomenal drummer but she’s empowered to an exponentially greater degree here, as is the entirety of the band rocketing higher than ever before. This is how you do a comeback, through and through. • LN
9/10
We get to the Rock Scene Stage just in time to see The Wonder Years begin their full playthrough of their sophomore album The Upsides. The tent is emptier than it has been for other bands from earlier in the day, perhaps because their more popular third record Suburbia I’ve Given You All And Now I’m Nothing was itself played in its entirety an hour before. Despite that, this is The Wonder Years, paragons of modern pop punk, and this set shows exactly why. Dan ‘Soupy’ Campbell resides in the upper echelon of pop-punk frontpeople for the way he sells his lyrics (their poetic relatability arguably also in the writer’s hall of fame), but this time feels particularly special. The uncertain emotions The Upsides deals in are not only delivered, the material being aired a novelty in itself, but are delivered with Soupy’s richer, more powerful voice that made Sister Cities and No Closer To Heaven such commanding records. Between songs, Soupy quickly becomes the standing-on-tabletops life of the party, telling omical anecdotes about a string of bad luck on The Upsides’ album cycle which left The Wonder Years pessimistic about the future of their band. The magic of this set comes from many factors, a perfect cocktail that demonstrates just why The Wonder Years are one of the greats of the Slam Dunk crowd. • GJ
9/10
It’s always a win when a band is game for a laugh, and with the Jurassic Park theme introing their own song Jurassic Park, it’s clear that Stand Atlantic are here to have just that. Theirs is a set that’s quite heavy with their lesser new material, but the Australians have the perfect level of charisma to counterbalance the fury to make almost everything sound like a hit. Singer Bonnie Fraser in particular is wonderful to watch, hilariously able to egg on a huge crowd like it’s nothing but also carry off the mistakes she makes (like excitedly doing her spoken preface for deathwish before the wrong song, repeating it at the right time much less enthusiastically). The highlights are super high too, Hate Me (Sometimes) and Lavender Bones sounding absolutely wonderful in the sun. Most of all though, this set feels like a graduation of sorts, one away from the Rock Sound stage of today before their deserved and inevitable smashing up of the Rock Scene or Dickies next year. • GJ
8/10
By now, Beartooth’s reputation as a premier live band within heavy music speaks for itself, but whenever they look to be inching higher and higher, it underlines just how true that statement is. Here they are, high up the bill on an open air stage, flanked by their own pyro and CO2 cannons, in as convincing an audition for a proper headline slot gets. They could unequivocally pull it off given how their burly hardcore lends itself to huge shout-alongs, as Caleb Shomo as the ringmaster in the centre of it all is what brings that excellence together. He’s such an obvious rockstar visually, but there’s a snarl and malevolence to his crowd interactions that hardens the edges and does so much work for the band as a whole. They sound monstrously heavy already, crushing through Devastation and Dominate with machine-like efficiency that particularly benefits Connor Denis on drums, and feeding that into more obvious big hooks on The Lines or Body Bag affirms that they couldn’t be better equipped to tackle these high slots. It’s no-frills in presentation besides the rippling muscularity of Beartooth themselves, the still-current flag-bearers of live metalcore which, on this platform, continues to rage by with barely a foot put wrong. • LN
8/10
Next, the Rock Scene tent is packed out for one of both Slam Dunk and pop-punk’s most reliable bands—The Story So Far. They’re fresh from the recent departure of bassist Kelen Carpener but are clearly still a tight unit from opener Keep This Up. They’re a band of few words; Parker Cannon seems to—we think—attempt a northern accent to say “nice one” between songs multiple times, which is really the most actual personality we get from them. This is an occasion where the songs speak for themselves though, and they’re arranged effectively in the setlist—the muscular anthemia of Roam and Quicksand is always balanced against the more controlled grooves of Proper Dose and Nerve. The crowd’s collective voice is easily the loudest this tent has heard since Hot Milk’s set, understandable for this showcase of one of the most consistent discographies at this festival. • GJ
8/10
For as hit-or-miss as Set It Off have been in recent years, it’s hard to deny that the desire to put on a show has shone through regardless. Cody Carson makes it a point to reference their long-delayed UK tour and the 1,100-plus-day interim that the pandemic had thrust upon their live shows, to where Set It Off today feel like the poster boys for dispelling any and all complacency around playing live. With each member clad in their own individual colour (and of retina-searing gaudiness, we should add…), that impression is solidified from the moment they step onstage, and only exacerbated by how full-force they go into pop-rock shades that benefit from a live climate. Having Carson as their energised mouthpiece goes far in how he leads Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing or Dangerous with an unending supply of verve, but in total, there’s a rubbery, more playful feel to how these songs are presented that irons out the wrinkles that tend to plague their recorded counterparts. The band do well to pick their heaviest hitters anyway, but there’s a rollick to Why Worry that’s excellently captured, and although it sounds a bit canned (much like it does on record), Why Do I has the undeniable chorus bolstered by a very game crowd to round things up brilliantly. It adds up less to a big, defining moment for Set It Off, and more to the standard of a band whose live prowess and fervour truly speaks for itself. • LN
8/10
It’s over to the Rock Sound Stage for the most eyebrow-raising set of the day—electronic duo 3OH!3. It’s certainly out of the ordinary hearing actual chart hits like Starstrukk and My First Kiss (obviously minus features from huge stars Katy Perry and Kesha) at a punk festival in Leeds, but this set often feels like two young-at-heart drunk uncles have hijacked the karaoke machine at a wedding, the presence of a very obvious sound system instead of any live musicians to accompany the two men only adding to this feeling. In terms of deeper cuts from the duo’s career, the flaws are much more obvious, Touchin’ On My and Punkbitch inciting keen audience participation but not demonstrating much in terms of actual quality. Nathaniel Motte and Sean Foreman clearly put their all into their crowd-pleasing schtick, spontaneously launching into tuneless Aerosmith covers and half-heartedly scaling the side of the stage. They actually shout out Electric Callboy’s set from earlier, seemingly not realising the gulf in personality between the charismatic Germans and their own wannabe fratboy selves. To their credit, the duo don’t sound terrible (despite a few moments), but they’re nowhere near likable enough for this set to be anything more than a novelty. • GJ
4/10
It goes without saying that, with the pathways that pop-punk has walked on over the last decade, and the hand they’ve had in both paving them and renovating them for those to follow, a headline set from Neck Deep was inevitable. As the name in UK pop-punk, the popularity they exhibit within a packed-in crowd is hardly surprising, nor is the fact their most defining trait ultimately proves to be how densely pack the collection of hits they’ve accumulated is. The ‘songs first’ approach is where they are today; they’ve got stage dressing of some kind of bedroom / living room hybrid behind them, but it’s there more as a perfunctory backdrop than anything of real note. It’s the caveat that comes with doing a headline set in a tent, where it’s hard to really go all-out on the spectacle, and thus it can seem a little less special by comparison to others nearby. Though, that’s more a shortcoming of the practice itself rather than Neck Deep as a band, who take a career-spanning dive that encompasses the live debut of their new single STFU, to ancient cuts from their early EPs that haven’t been aired in almost ten years. For an opportunity that could present itself as a means to dish out nothing but their most commercial, accessible cuts, Neck Deep’s commitment to celebrating a decade of growth is massively commendable, particularly when their full-band rendition of A Part Of Me serves as a really solid bridge of eras. But really, it’s those big moments that make up the bulk of the set and understandably so, giving Ben Barlow the chance to get riotous and energetic at just how big Motion Sickness or Can’t Kick Up The Roots sound. Even when they do get more sweet and sweeping like on When You Know or In Bloom, they’re indicative of how far Neck Deep have come, and how universally solid they’ve become in that time. Even if this isn’t their career-defining headline shot, all signs point to that still being on the cards. • LN
7/10
It’s hardly out of line to suggest that Deaf Havana are going into their set on the back foot. They aren’t as at home among Slam Dunk’s usual pop-punk remit, and topping a stage that’s just seen 3OH!3 go on before them is nothing close to a natural transition for them to pick up on. But it’s not like Deaf Havana haven’t weathered their fair share of hardships already, of which this is comparatively insignificant, and as an opportunity to set the course for their upcoming era, it’s about as a good as it can be. It’s probably worth noting that the approach feels distinctly different to their bigger, grander sets, as they open with Epiphany into a phenomenal-sounding Hell that brings the smoulder and bass-power of their pop leanings to the fore, in which James Veck-Gilodi delivers a truly astonishing vocal performance. An Old Souls-heavy setlist defines a more low-key outing that Deaf Havana can pull off really quite well, in how their thicker current sound blends among the spacious smoulder of Speeding Cars or a languid Caro Padre, to sound stark but phenomenally realised. This is only their third show since 2019, and any rust associated with that is a non-factor; their new live band already feel very at home with this material, in which new songs Kids and Going Clear already seem ingratiated within Deaf Havana’s ever-growing live pantheon with extreme ease. They’ve reached a point where they’re so evidently great that everything will fall into line regardless, and the efforts put towards freshness and newness are greatly appreciated and effective among it. Although the increased density can scratch off some of the luster of Sinner, it’s still a tremendous closer, the pop-rock monolith in Deaf Havana’s arsenal that heralds even more greatness to come. • LN
8/10
The final Dickies stage set of the day has been a long time coming. This headliner has been booked since late 2019 and now, over two and a half years later, Sum 41 finally take their places. Their setup is certainly a spectacle, a huge devil figure providing the backdrop for Sum 41, colossal columns of fire shooting up from the stage floor throughout the set. The opening run of Motivation, The Hell Song and Over My Head (Better Off Dead) is colossal, but the facade lifts slightly the further into the setlist we get. As a punk band but also a main festival headliner, Sum 41 need to strike a balance in between danger and spontaneity, but also professionalism and grandiosity. Deryck Whibley clearly relishes the role of the ringleader, speeding through the crowd participation checklist with zeal and urgency. It can feel a tad too rehearsed though, certain crutches he has when stuck for words (like the spiels calling fans of Sum 41’s heavier material “crazy motherfuckers” before playing anything more punk-leaning) becoming obvious. Performance-wise though, the band leave the crowd wanting for nothing, delivering every song, smash hit or not, like it’s the last they’ll ever play. By the time Fat Lip and Still Waiting close out both Sum 41 and Slam Dunk North 2022, everyone’s sweaty and beaming, the only way a festival should end. • GJ
7/10
Words by Luke Nuttall (LN) and Georgia Jackson (GJ)
Photographs by Jamie MacMillan (Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook), Bethan Miller (Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook), Nathan Robinson (Website | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook), Eddy Maynard (Website | Instagram | Twitter) and Katie McMillan (Instagram | Twitter | Facebook)
