Here we are—back in Leeds for Slam Dunk, and contending with a fair bit more rain and mud than usual. Nevertheless, another massive lineup awaits, kicked off by pop-rock super-risers Artio on their latest stop towards scene-dominating size. There’s already a decent bit of good will under their belt on full display, though with how deeply they’re embedded in dense, genre-agnostic pop-rock, that’s hardly surprising. And while—like all of these, if we’re being honest—this isn’t lighting a blazing fire immediately, it’s not hard to see the appeal when the energies align. They’re pounding and muscular here, a little one-note but good in what they’re pulling off. A perfectly fine early doors showing, then, from a band whose graduation from that already appears etched in the stars. • LN
Anyone opening a festival main stage has their work cut out for them in terms of setting the tone, but The Dangerous Summer have an extra job today. Crowd morale is already waning thanks to a heavy downpour turning the ground to sludge before the festival gates even opened, the skies still an unpromising dark grey as the first bars of Where I Want To Be ring out. The band’s guitars are especially effective from their main stage vantage point, clearly aiming to sweet-talk the sun into coming out from behind the rainclouds. Vocally though, things feel a bit strained, a few bum notes and unintelligible rasp a lead balloon to the weightlessness of the instrumentation. It’s later explained as singer AJ Perdomo brings up feeling under the weather in the days leading up to this set, but even though it can’t be helped, it does bring chances of raising spirits crashing down. • GJ
So it looks as though Beauty School’s little streak of jumping from strength to strength isn’t letting up, eh? As one of the modern success stories coming up directly via Slam Dunk’s infrastructure—plus purveyors of some of the finest emo around right now—there’s a gleaming gratitude from what feels like a band living their dream out on their home turf. To see it so well reciprocated has to only further the high; a crowd willing to soldier through the drizzle that would become the defining characteristic of the early day isn’t nothing in itself, though Beauty School’s continued vigour makes it all justified. Their cache of anthems is leatherbound and ironclad, with Pawn Shop Jewels inching ever closer to becoming a genuine all-timer. A couple of new cuts also appear—Gloom is an incredibly capable pivot into hardcore, screams and all, and even without a star turn from The Wonder Years’ Dan Campbell on Reaper (which Hatfield did get the day before, FYI), the ability of Beauty School themselves is hardly leaving anyone feeling short-changed. Seems those strengths keep coming thick and fast, then. • LN
Now being moved to GoPro Stage openers, there’s not a worry to be found as Caskets pull out a post-hardcore blinder.
There’s an immediate energy pick-up in the Kerrang! tent as Honey Revenge bound onstage. They only released their debut record last year, but they’re as polished as a band so young could be, yellow and black plaid uniforms and perfectly choreographed high-kicks already feeling like trademarks. Singer Devin Papadol is charisma personified and fluent in sassy one-liners, so much so that the crowd accepts the matter-of-fact commands (not requests) to give more without batting an eyelid. Guitarist Donovan Lloyd is a perfect tonic to Papadol’s edge, wide smiles and carefree dancing bringing the fun factor so necessary with songs this catchy. Seeing Negative, Are You Impressed? and Airhead are particular highlights, and even though mid-tempo closer Distracted dulls the set’s momentum right at the end, the star power on show here is sure to end up on the Slam Dunk main stage in the next few years. • GJ
Another stop on their unimpeded journey towards alt-rock stardom? All in a day’s work for As December Falls.
The Kerrang! tent is packed for Taylor Acorn, who’s here to represent the buzzy female pop-punk solo artists taking over Slam Dunk lineups of late. Initially it’s easy to notice the lack of stage aesthetics (the first look into an artist’s personality), but it soon becomes clear that Acorn has elected to let her vocals speak for themselves without any bells and whistles. It’s certainly an effective path to take, performance clearly being the thing she’s best at. There’s a seriousness to a lot of these songs (Wishing You Hell and Coma in particular), watching the singer smash cymbals with her bare hands, back bend and belt the hell out of them super captivating. It’s the good, old-fashioned earworm Psycho that’s going to truly stick with people after the festival’s over, but in terms of raw talent, Taylor Acorn definitely has it. • GJ
The sun decides to properly show itself for the first time today, illiciting a considerable cheer and lifting spirits for the reemergence of Head Automatica considerably. After all, this has been billed as a celebration of Decadence, their debut that’s now 20 years old with none of the freshness or fun having worn down. And when the band stick to that rubric, it is a great time. Daryl Palumbo embodies that entirely, as the ringleader to dance-pop-rock bangers like Brooklyn Is Burning and Disco Hades while displaying not a trace of rust. Moreover, it’s good that this isn’t treated like a second-fiddle concession his glassjaw work; the ‘more lucrative pop side-project’ archetype is worn with no cynicism whatsoever. It’s just a shame that this particular celebration isn’t limited to Decadence, and draws on Head Automatica’s other material that, for whatever reason, isn’t on streaming services, and ergo, has its immediate resonance kneecapped. Even with the single Graduation Day, you can feel the energy around the crowd deplete through sheer inaccessibility of the material, leaving Head Automatica themselves to try and force the slack away. It’s a solid shift they put in, but one that still leaves defined, definite peaks and troughs. But, hey—at least everyone gets Beating Heart Baby and has a lovely time for those three-and-a-half minutes. • LN
Spirits are somewhat low over at the Key Club stage, soggy punters huddling for warmth after yet another bout of drizzle. It’s a bit of a vicious cycle for One Step Closer, singer Ryan Savitski obviously put out by subpar pitting levels in the crowd to the point where it initially impacts his own energy levels. It doesn’t dim their fury though, I Feel So and Lead To Gray accentuated by the moody atmosphere. As everyone warms up, Orange Leaf and a huge-sounding Giant’s Despair get the reception the band were after from the start, a triumphant end to a set which could have been quashed by the weather. • GJ
Bloody hell, who turned the dial on Set It Off up?! Maybe it’s the pressure to conform from being on the designated heavy stage, but they seem determined to prove that plastic pop-rock isn’t the only string to their bow. Granted, it’s probably the most fun of them, seeing has their painting with radio-rock and nu-metal in this era, while proficient, is ultimately a little more flavourless than usual. Still, you can’t fault them for committing to the bit, not on the last show of an 83-day run when most sensible people would be itching to get this over and done with. Cody Carson’s natural showmanship carries over to this more low-swung, oppressive guise, goading on circle pits and walls of death far more convincingly than you’d imagine from your average pop-rock pipsqueak. There’s definitely a limit to all this (probably why the cover of Linkin Park’s Points Of Authority is here at all, to make that ceiling seem higher), but it’s also not nearly the weird, out-of-place disaster it could’ve been. As far as a band like Set It Off are concerned, that’s an absolute win. • LN
After their absolute shocker at Slam Dunk South yesterday, We The Kings are looking for redemption today. While the remnants of South’s troubles keep them from being altogether there (frontman Travis Clark introducing Say You Like Me as the just-played She Takes Me High), their equipment heeds the firm behaviour warning it probably received the day prior. In terms of setlist, it’s stacked with all the classics any We The Kings fan would expect, but it feels incredibly stunted by excessive stage ‘banter’. Clark does the same “this is one of our best songs” bit before both of their covers (do we need Wonderwall and Mr. Brightside in the same set?), guilts the crowd into doing the ‘womp man’ for his daughters (who aren’t there to see it) and makes the crowd record three separate voice memos for their keyboardist, absent in favour of touring with Green Day. The fatigue is real by the end of the set, but as the sun decides to come out right as Check Yes Juliet’s opening riff starts, it does admittedly feel like it’s all been worth it. • GJ
So, the goss around the site today is that Bob Vylan got into a bit of a kerfuffle in Hatfield yesterday, and have subsequently been dropped from the bill. The details are unsubstantiated, of course, but whatever the case, As Everything Unfolds are the most prominent beneficiaries. To fill in, they’ve bounced up from early-doors openers to a firm mid-afternoon slot, which arguably should’ve always been the case. You’re having to crane your neck to see them now, such is the near-vertical trajectory of their rising star, and it’s all thanks to being insanely solid at what they do. Unflappable in stature, As Everything Unfolds once again rattle off everything that’s turned them into post-hardcore juggernauts-in-waiting. When the mix irons itself out, Charlie Rolfe is a vocalist as routinely amazing as ever, supplemented by the enormity of Ultraviolet and Felt Like Home that crush and cave like nobody’s business. The confluence of factors remains the same, and so does its influence—As Everything Unfolds are still nailing it. • LN
Despite Slam Dunk inexplicably overlapping both Britrock reunion sets, there’s a great turnout at the GoPro stage for The Blackout, who are playing The Best In Town in full. There’s something comforting about seeing them back together on a stage, the live environment undoubtedly where they were strongest and remembered most fondly. STFUppercut and Save Our Selves (The Warning) and Top Of The World are a ridiculous opening trio, the sunshine / nostalgia combo making everything feel particularly bouncy. While the band are all on great form, it’s still Sean Smith who’s the focal point, being incredibly unserious as always. He’ll be putting the microphone in his mouth in, ahem, unspeakable ways, making over-the-top crying faces during Silent (When We Speak) and doing one-two counts with his middle fingers, all while singling out the most dedicated fans in the crowd (some being little kids on shoulders) and making them feel seen. The Blackout always felt like fun and camaraderie were at the top of their list and this set, capped off with an appearance from You Me At Six’s Josh Franceschi, proves just that, and it’s so great to have them back at Slam Dunk. • GJ
If you couldn’t tell by the intro tape of Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, Eminem’s Without Me and AC/DC’s Back In Black, Mallory Knox weren’t around anymore, but now they are. And apparently it’s on a more longterm basis, too; they’ve just announced a full-blown tour to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Asymmetry. Slam Dunk is the big one though, the litmus test for whether Classic Recipe Mallory Knox still have legs past Britrock’s 2010s heyday. Not only that, but there are clearly some technical gremlins conspiring against them when the sound drops out numerous times, and in pretty quick succession. Maybe it’s a fluke on opener Beggars; it’s a bit less tolerable on the following Wake Up; past that, it becomes actively annoying. Still, you can’t blame Mallory Knox themselves when they seem so determined to not let this reunion be dampened. This is where Mikey Chapman returns, after all, with the combination of affable personality and powerhouse voice that brings the good times flooding back. Absence certainly has grown some fondness a lot, and a svelte set of exclusively anthems is the ideal first step on this triumphant road to a comeback. Plus, can you argue with Lighthouse as a closer? Didn’t think so. • LN
Is the tent for Pale Waves so busy because they’re just that popular, or because it’s just started tipping it down again and this is one of the few sources of shelter on the festival site? If it’s only the latter, things likely won’t be staying the way for much longer. Long has the festival circuit been where Pale Waves reap the greatest rewards, and even as fairly recent converts to the world of pop-punk (and thus, the Slam Dunk remit), today should serve as proof positive that it can work pretty much anywhere. Interestingly, they’re less gated to that style than you might expect, instead dipping into prior wells of indie-pop and alt-rock, and with new song Perfume and its gauzy pop-rock shimmer, the hints that claims of a full-blown pop-punk reinvention might have been exaggerated. But on their own merits, Pale Waves are consummate in their abilities. Well-worn experience with big sets like this shines through, and in a black-clad Heather Baron-Gracie as such an instantaneous focal (and vocal) point, they’ve got the visual aspect down pat on top of the music. Surely, with a pop-rock performance this airtight, the rain easing off as quickly as it came can’t be a coincidence. • LN
Someone somewhere (i.e. us, at the GoPro Stage) went to catch some juggernaut radio-metalcore from Asking Alexandria—it looked a little something like this.
This is a tricky stage placement for Boys Like Girls—they have two huge anthems in The Great Escape and Love Drunk to their name and even worked with Taylor Swift (heard of her?) back in the day, but the third-from-the-top main stage slot perhaps doesn’t match the overall impact they’ve made. That doesn’t faze the band themselves though, who clearly have ambitions and skills made for the size of the stage they’re on. This setlist is catnip to the average Slam Dunk-goer (sunny, pop-tinged anthems that are completely made for this environment) and hit after hit after hit for existing fans. There is a slight disconnect between the nostalgia-hunting crowd and the newly recharged band, singer Martin Johnson often using the headline set playbook to address the more relaxed festival environment. He encourages a singalong to deep cut Heels Over Head which falls flatter than intended, then further beats the dead horse with a drawn-out lyric tutorial for post-reunion track Miracle. As with lots of these bands, everyone’s waiting for that one song, and The Great Escape is like an instant euphoria hit to the veins. Again though, Johnson and the band make their opinions known, restarting the song after the first chorus (“did you all get your videos?”), then waiting until the uninitiated leave before playing ballad Two Is Better Than One (sans Taylor Swift of course). This set was a great welcome back for Boys Like Girls, and for more dedicated fans, an open invitation to any future UK headline shows possibly in the pipeline. • GJ
So much of the talk around Funeral For A Friend lately has fallen exclusively on Lucas Woodland as caretaker frontman that how he does in that role has become immaterial. Like, yeah, he’s obviously proven his mettle in Holding Absence—effectively the spiritual successor of this very band—but he’s also not an absolute dead-on fit. His vocal style favours the grandiosity of his own band rather than Funeral For A Friend’s tighter, tauter post-hardcore, and that becomes so much more noticeable on Into Oblivion (Reunion) or History when he does indeed nail it. But the point really isn’t to focus on what doesn’t work, is it? It’s the valiance of the effort that’s the main thing, and how it’s sold with total sincerity rather than as a festival-only headline-grabber. It certainly is that, but there’s so much more beyond that. His love and admiration for this band is brass-bold throughout, and a fan-favourite set selection hits that much deeper when it’s an actual fan up front. Of course the songs stand on their own—Juneau just two deep is such an easy win button to press—and Funeral For A Friend as an entire unit have never slouched in the energy department, not even well into their third decade. Put all of that together, and frame it as a genuine stab at forward motion far above some one-off curio, and you’ve clearly got another winner. • LN
A lot of the bands on the main stage today have had one or two standout songs that any fan of rock music know back to front, but The All-American Rejects have undoubtedly the biggest collection of bonafide hits so far. It’s the band’s first UK festival since, well, headlining Slam Dunk a whole decade ago, and the fact that a lot of the set is the same is testament to just how timeless these songs are. They also still sound like they’re in their prime, although there have been some pretty dramatic changes when it comes to showmanship. Singer Tyson Ritter often embodies a Willy Wonka or Doc Brown-esque character when addressing the crowd, theatrically encouraging the them to cheer to summon his “time machine”, which turns out to just be the band playing their pre-arranged setlist.
Barefoot and dishevelled, he’s an unpredictable but fascinating focal point, the mix of nostalgia, live prowess (he’s the only main stage pop-punk frontman of the day who can still deliver all his songs in the key they were written in), and string of bangers are a winning combo. Obviously Gives You Hell, Dirty Little Secret and unexpected closer Move Along are some of the best singalongs of the day, but Fallin’ Apart and My Paper Heart remain some of the most underrated Warped Tour-era song. Ukulele Coldplay cover aside, this set shows The All-American Rejects can still run rings around their counterparts, and with lots of those larger counterparts calling it a day, surely have to be in contention to reprise their Slam Dunk headliner status. • GJ
Say what you like about Waterparks, but they can certainly feel like they’ve made it. Album upon album of programmed pop-rock hit-or-miss-itude really has no bearing on a headline set where they genuinely present as if they can do no wrong. Awsten Knight bounces onstage in a glittery red mask; Geoff Wiginton sugar-rushes off the walls in his approximation of a guitar hero; the air is heavy with the notion that Waterparks are, in fact, excellent at this. It’s the ultimate crystallisation of their idea of fun, as heavy production and a motor-mouthed delivery serve as the whizzbangs of choice for these particular stage headliners, without supplanting their own skills or songs. When they streamline things to only the best stuff and pump in the colour, Stupid For You and Funeral Grey sound unbeatable within the pop-rock canon, and I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore becomes such a quick little singalong jaunt. Knight being such a dynamo can compound it and tie it together—especially when he’s not shackled by his guitar—but it’d be wrong to attribute tonight’s success to any one factor. Waterparks feeling like a consistent, considerable unit is what’s fuelling this, a full-circle moment topping the stage that their first UK visit saw them at the very bottom of. On this front, they’ve earned it and then some. • LN
On the alien world of the Monster Energy Stage, where ska is sequestered and old punks can live in blissful ignorance of what the kids elsewhere are listening to, it speaks volumes for a ‘new’ band to be deemed worthy of taking the top spot. The Interrupters, though, have more than earned their stripes with this lot. This is what you’d imagine the golden age of Lookout / Hellcat-core ska-punk would’ve been like, with all the energy and vigour of a band for whom the absolute best time is the prime concern. Hell, A Friend Like Me might genuinely be the best embodiment of togetherness at this entire festival, through both its own populism, and for bringing so many people dancing together and paying no mind to the mudbath underfoot.
Gimmickry has no place for The Interrupters; this is entirely reliant on its own power and fighting spirit. As such, you’re inclined to disregard how a lot of these songs can sound awful similar, because it’s hard to care when they’re this unfailingly rousing. What’s more, The Interrupters clearly have no stock in the idea that ska is ‘uncool’. Just look at Aimee Interrupter herself, proud holder of a SoCal snarl (albeit through some oft-shonky reverb) that’s just as magnetic as her own prowl across the stage—it is cool! Look at it like this—no other band on this entire bill could cover Billie Eilish’s bad guy and The Specials’ A Message To You Rudy in near the same breath, and have it feel like two completely legitimate blows being dealt out. The Interrupters, then, might just be in a league of their own. • LN
It’s poetic that You Me At Six are playing their final UK festival set at Slam Dunk, their storied history with both the festival and the offshoot record label palpable context to them gracing the stage tonight. As Save It For The Bedroom immediately sends the crowd into a frenzy, it’s obvious that this is going to be a set curated for the fans. It’s a journey through You Me At Six’s whole career, and they clearly don’t want to waste any time with niceties, cramming in as many tracks as they can and putting the onus firmly on their early days. Reactions are giddy when oft-under-appreciated songs like Kiss And Tell, The Swarm and Always Attract get an airing, while the tried-and-tested gimmicks of Underdog, Loverboy and Take On The World are done like it’s the last time they’ll happen—which for a lot of people in this crowd, it probably is.
In terms of actual showmanship there could be a lot more brought to the table, the colourful stage lights a lot of other bands have had and filters over the stage-flanking screens feeling a bit lacklustre considering that this is a much buzzed-about festival headline set. For the initiated ready to give themselves over to this piece of history completely aesthetics are absolutely not the point, but for any more casual fans, this isn’t the effort that Slam Dunk headliners usually put in. At the end of the day though, this does feel like a special night. The impact of You Me At Six has well and truly been validated, and though it has evolved and come in and out of fashion many times over the years, showed just how special the spaces created by rock music at festivals like Slam Dunk can be. • GJ
Words by Luke Nuttall (LN) and Georgia Jackson (GJ)
Photos by Faye Roberts (Instagram)
