THE WILDHEARTS LIVE AT RESCUE ROOMS – GIG REVIEW

15 December 2025 rocknews

Some bands come onstage to perform. The Wildhearts come onstage to detonate.

On a dark Nottingham night, Rescue Rooms became the epicentre of something loud, messy, life‑affirming and gloriously unpolished — exactly how a Wildhearts gig should feel. Having already stood in this room three times this week, let’s be clear: this was by far the best of the lot. In fact, it’s a genuine contender for gig of the year, even edging past their Rock City show back in March.

From the first snarling notes of Failure Is the Mother of Success, it was obvious this wasn’t about nostalgia or box‑ticking. This was about connection, catharsis, and a band still very much alive on their own terms.

A Setlist Built for Diehards

With a catalogue as deep, chaotic and beloved as The Wildhearts’, picking a setlist is no small task. Somehow, tonight they absolutely nailed it. This wasn’t just good — it was a corker.

Running through Nothing Ever Changes (But the Shoes) early on set the tone perfectly — a reminder that The Wildhearts have always thrived on contradiction: sharp hooks wrapped in chaos, melody buried under teeth‑grinding riffs. And this wasn’t an audience — it was a choir, in fine, furious voice from the off.

Sleepaway, Vernix and Mazel Tov Cocktail landed like a three‑song sucker punch — fast, filthy, and utterly unapologetic. Kunce and Maintain Radio Silence kept the pressure relentless, while Cheers and Splitter tipped the room into joyful disarray.

Hearing Cheers live was a first for me, made even better by Ginger’s story about Chris Moyles playing it to death in a doomed attempt to drag it into the charts. Some songs just aren’t meant for radio — they’re meant for rooms like this.

By the time Everlone rolled around, Rescue Rooms was fully locked in — every chorus hurled back at the stage like it mattered. Spider Beach, a brand‑new song from the next album, was another highlight. If this is the standard they’re setting, then the new record — like all the others — is going to be something special. Name another band this far into their career still writing like this. Exactly.

The Medley: Controlled Carnage

The mid‑set medley — Slaughtered Authors, Diagnosis, Chutzpah — was pure controlled carnage. No breathing space, no mercy, just song after song crashing into each other with barely a pause. It felt dangerous in the best possible way, like the band might go off the rails at any second — and everyone in the room would happily go with them.

The Encore: No Prisoners Taken

It’s worth mentioning that a few bands playing this venue recently have complained about feeling rough, even cutting sets short. Ginger addressed it head‑on — if he started feeling a bit shit, he’d head off, take some tablets, and come straight back. Thankfully, he powered through the lot.

The encore sent the place over the edge. Geordie in Wonderland kicked things off — tonight reborn as Geordie in Nottingham — and the crowd completely lost it, every single voice in the room bellowing it back at full volume. Troubadour Moon a new classic from the last album, before Headfuck and Suckerpunch hit with savage precision. And of course, it all ended exactly where it should — I Wanna Go Where the People Go, a communal scream, a mission statement, and the only way this night was ever going to finish.

A Band That Still Believes in the Room

What makes The Wildhearts special live isn’t just the songs — it’s the belief. They play like they still believe in the power of a sweaty, packed venue. Like they know this matters to the people pressed against the barrier, screaming every word like it’s stitched into their DNA.

This new version of the band has come on massively since March. The newer members have found their feet, with Ben especially throwing himself fully into the role — striking the poses, hitting the jumps, embracing the chaos. And the family has grown again, with the legendary Carol Hodge now part of the line‑up on keys.

Rescue Rooms Was the Right Place

Rescue Rooms was the perfect pressure cooker for this show. Intimate, loud, no escape routes. The kind of venue where every riff lands harder and every chorus feels personal. This wasn’t a polished arena spectacle — it was a proper rock ’n’ roll encounter.

Final Verdict

This was a first for me — two Wildhearts gigs in Nottingham in the same year — but let’s be honest, they could do this once a month and it would still sell out.

The Wildhearts didn’t just play a set — they reminded everyone why they still matter. Why their songs endure. Why nights like this stick with you long after your ears stop ringing.

If you’ve never been to a Wildhearts gig, do yourself a favour and go to the next one. I guarantee it won’t be your last.