LIVE REVIEWS
Laufey epitomises a charming new era in contemporary pop, as classically-trained musicians – including Wasia Project and Ena Mori – are finding an audience online thanks to their forward-facing take on traditional jazz. The 25-year-old multi-instrumentalist has had a banner year: earlier this month, she scooped a Grammy for her masterful second LP ‘Bewitched’, following a recent NME cover and a sold-out world tour. Her teenage listeners see themselves in her heartfelt songs; Laufey’s music embodies the chaotic life changes that young lovers cycle through, using surging rhythms to evoke both romantic enlightenment and despair.
This simpatico with her following can be felt at the first of three sold-out nights at Hackney’s Earth Theatre. In the coming months, Laufey will return to London for further shows at the Roundhouse and Royal Albert Hall, meaning this evening feels like an underplay. The contrast between the screams that greet the Icelandic-Chinese artist’s arrival on stage, and what comes next, is telling. Spread across wooden, seatless tiers – with many fans sitting cross-legged as though at a school assembly – they respond to Laufey’s songs not with breathless cheering, but polite clapping and nods of approval. Jellycat plushies are raised above heads after a dreamy ‘Valentine’; there is nary a phone in sight.
A powerful exchange of emotional understanding continues to play out between artist and audience. Lit in soft-focus blue tones, Laufey waltzes between the double bass, piano and guitar, with support from a taut and characterful string quartet. In a pair of red Mary Jane shoes, she pirouettes from one side of the stage to the other during ‘Dreamer’, acting out the lyrics with her hands (“No boy’s gonna be so smart as to / Try and pierce my porcelain heart”). The crowd, meanwhile, act as a quiet but ever-present backing choir, their voices barely rising above a whisper.
The cozy daydream vibe of ‘Promise’ is matched by a backdrop of twinkling lights – the sole element of production drama this evening. Given the way Laufey delivers her songs via a permanent Hollywood smile, it’s easy to forget how sad some of them are. Each one contains granular detail, from a newspaper-reading crush left behind on the Tube (‘Beautiful Stranger’) to tears on a steering wheel (‘California and Me’). She begins the former by telling a story about one of her first-ever visits to the capital, before seamlessly (and cheesily) segueing into its opening chords – a graduate of the Taylor Swift school of Song Introductions, clearly.
Credit: Getty/Lorne Thomson
Briefly joined by her identical twin sister Junia on the violin, Laufey’s bossa nova-flecked hit ‘From The Start’ proves a shimmying highlight, but it is during ‘Letter To My 13 Year Old Self’ that she hits a vocal and emotional peak. She outstretches her arms as she sings; the room falls so silent that you can hear a bartender printing receipts in the back corner of the auditorium. “One day you’ll be up on stage / Little girls will scream your name,” she repeats, her deep, crystalline voice ringing out unencumbered.
‘Fragile’
‘Valentine’
‘Second Best’
‘Dreamer’
‘Falling Behind’
‘Beautiful Stranger’
‘Promise’
‘Like The Movies’
‘Nocturne (Interlude)’
‘Let You Break My Heart Again’
‘California and Me’
‘Bewitched’
‘Haunted’
‘Best Friend’
‘Lovesick’
‘From The Start’
‘Letter To My 13 Year Old Self’
LIVE REVIEWS
The closing hours of Reading 2026 have finally arrived. Florence + The Machine brought the rain during ‘Dog Days Are Over’ at The Grid, opening the heavens and leaving the festival site completely soaked. The weary fans who have stayed behind are wet, exhausted and clearly feeling the effects of the weekend. What they need now is one final enormous celebration to make the wait worthwhile.
The Gallery tent comes alive as the speakers blast ‘Favourite’ by Friday’s headliners and fellow countrymen Fontaines D.C., receiving the kind of reaction usually reserved for ‘Mr Brightside’ at a drunken wedding reception. Moments later, Kneecap display their familiar statement accusing Israel of carrying out genocide against the people of Palestine and Lebanon, with support from the UK government. It captures the Belfast rap trio perfectly, combining serious political messages with an unapologetic party atmosphere.
“We use our platform to talk about what we believe is right,” Mo Chara explains during the performance, before recognising those who “aren’t so fucking lucky” and whose voices have been suppressed. He soon encourages the audience to roar “fuck Netanyahu” and “free free Palestine”. Later, he starts a powerful chant of “Aaaaaa-ndy Buuurn-ham’s a waaaaaaan-ker” to the melody of ‘Seven Nation Army’, targeting our new Prime Minister over his claim that “a united Ireland is off the table”. Laughing, he asks: “The BBC won’t broadcast that, or will they?” As it turned out, they did not.
Away from the headlines and the controversy, there is no denying the connection Kneecap have built with their audience. Politics may shape the conversation, but the crowd also came to enjoy themselves, ready for a rave after the rally. The performance begins carefully with the heavy rumble of ‘Smugglers & Scholars’, before exploding during the Grian Chatten collaboration ‘Better Way To Live’ and the threatening energy of ‘Sick In The Head’. “Are ya ready for a mad one?” Mo Chara shouts. The response is already obvious.
The atmosphere becomes increasingly chaotic as the hip hop rhythm of ‘Cold At The Top’ and the hypnotic trance sounds of ‘An Ra’ send the entire tent into motion. The trio jokingly thank the UK for everything it has given Ireland, listing UKIP, fish and chips, a mental health crisis, Jimmy Saville, HP Sauce and Bloody Sunday. However, the show reaches another level once the second half begins. The explosive ‘Sayonara’ brings the ‘beef’ to ‘IBEEFA’, while ‘Get Your Brits Out’ and ‘Guilty Conscience’ give the crowd every reason to obey Móglaí Bap’s demand to “oooopen up the piiiiiit”.
Anyone watching closely may have questioned why the cameras continued to focus on Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara. The pair eventually reveal that they have spent recent weeks performing alongside a “provisional” DJ Próvai. Wearing the familiar tricolour balaclava, the temporary replacement handles his role as the crowd agitator with confidence while their bandmate enjoys some paternity leave. “Some things are more important than music, and that’s family,” they explain. How sweet. Móglaí Bap quickly destroys the tender moment by adding: “As you might know, the Brits took all our potatoes from Ireland; they took all our cocaine,” before declaring, “but we still have all our caaandy.” The group then charge directly into one of the biggest tracks ever written about extremely powerful ketamine.
‘Liar’s Tale’ sparks another huge reaction with its response to Keir Starmer, “genocide armer”, while the group warn that “you’re not getting away with doing nothing”. It is a politically charged message hidden inside an irresistible anthem from musicians who have experienced the “belly of the beast” through the legal system. Their latest album, ‘Fenian’, has helped Kneecap fully embrace the celebration that has always been part of their identity. Their live production now feels capable of filling arenas, blending the intimacy of a late night lock in with the rhythmic force and visual scale of The Chemical Brothers, the reckless electronic punk spirit of The Prodigy, and the fearless political honesty of Public Enemy. The spectacular visuals complete the experience.
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Closing with the powerful combination of ‘Fenian’, ‘H.O.O.D.’ and the enormous ‘The Recap’, Kneecap bring our final celebration at Reading to a thrilling conclusion while also finishing their last festival appearance of the summer. “It’s been a pleasure to spend it with you mad c**ts,” Mo Chara says before leaving the stage. The feeling is mutual.
Return to NME here for the newest reports, reviews, photographs, conversations and further coverage from Reading & Leeds 2026.
