A night at the Brudenell with Treeboy and Arc
At the centre of the Leeds music scene, between rows of red brick houses and musty basement practice rooms, sits the beloved Brudenell. A long-term social club and short-term legendary venue, the pub has never quite shaken off the social aspect. It’s present in every gig, every pool game, every pint, but perhaps never more palpably than when Leeds locals Treeboy and Arc take to the stage as part of their Natural Habitat tour.
You’d be hard-pressed to find a band more tied to the Brudenell or more ingrained into the local scene than Treeboy and Arc. Spawning directly out of those LS6 terraces and dingy underground rehearsal spaces seven years ago, everything about the quintet screams the city that made them. They’re long-time Leeds United fans, post-punk purveyors, enthusiasts of Dave’s Pies and Ales and recent EMI North signees – Treeboy and Arc embody the city’s music past, present and future all at once.
Expectedly, they all look right at home in the backstage of the Brudenell’s main room. As we slouch into the plush sofas and chairs that line the generous green room, the sounds of Bug Teeth’s soundcheck bleeds through the walls. Frontman Ben introduces himself as “Benjamin H Christ, guitar, vocals, turning water into wine”, while guitarist George cracks open a drink from the fully-stocked fridge. It seems that Treeboy and Arc belong in the Brudenell, and perhaps, tonight, at the very least, the Brudenell belongs to them.
“It’s nice to see new parts of the world that we haven’t seen before,” synth player Sammy reflects on the dates they’ve already played, “I said that as if we’re going to like fucking Japan or something. We’ve been to Cardiff, so that was nice.”
Alongside dates in London and Cardiff, their tour highlights so far include games of Perudo (which touring sound tech Sam always wins), pit stops at Greggs and “squeezing in naps in the van”, the latter contributed by bassist and vocalist Jim. But the band already know that their impending hometown show will surpass even the most freshly baked sausage rolls and the deepest of motorway sleeps.
Equal parts excited and nauseous at the idea of playing the Brudenell’s main room, their nerves seem to stem not from the venue’s legacy but from the familiarity of those in attendance. “It’s gonna be the biggest crowd of the whole tour, but it’s also the most people that you know in one room that you’ve ever seen,” George states.
Though they rightfully assert that the Brudenell is “definitely the best venue in the world”, they’ve seen some slightly more flashy green rooms in the past few days, including a balcony in Manchester, a record shop in Bristol, and a disused vintage bar upstairs in London’s Moth Club. But Treeboy and Arc aren’t fussy while on the road – all they hope for on a rider is some beers, maybe a can of custard, and when in Europe, some local football merchandise.
“Someone in Switzerland gave us this tiny little flag from a village football club, from exactly where we were,” Sammy tells me. “It was great, but I don’t think we’d want to do that around the UK because you’d just end up with a load of shit from clubs that we don’t support”.
Treeboy and Arc took their Leeds-branded post-punk overseas last autumn on a series of dates across Europe, where they found crowds were more willing to move and promoters more willing to provide. “They’re not as worried about going fucking wild and dancing,” they recall, “They just consume art completely differently over there.”
That’s not to say that Treeboy aren’t equally excited about the scene they exist in the UK. They each take the time to shout out some of their favourite upcoming bands in the scene, including their ethereal support act Bug Teeth, fellow EMI North label buddies Green Gardens, and noise-grunge outfit Fuzz Lightyear.
As a whole, the band also declare their love for Leeds synth-driven six-piece Adult DVD. “I say this as a dreary post-punk band,” Sammy states, “But it’s not just the classic Leeds post-punk band. It’s quite nice to watch something that it feels like hasn’t existed in Leeds for a long time.”
The Bug Teeth soundcheck seems to be drawing to a close, and doors are set to open, so I wrap up our conversation by asking them about the can of custard that sits atop one of their amps. “We call them tour memes,” they began to explain before erupting into laughter, “I think the day of the custard birth was, we were playing at Troxy for the Youth Music Awards, and we were eating a crumble”.
Amidst conversations over crumble, Ben used the word “cuggy” to refer to custard, and the band latched onto it, deciding it was “just awful”.
“So now we’ve got a can of Ambrosia that sits onstage,” Jim explains. Now, the band are in so deep that they’re receiving unsolicited cans of the stuff from fans and joking about the potential for custard-themed merchandise.
We slip out of the green room just in time to see Bug Teeth taking to the stage, donning their matching knitted bug hats and surrounded by pedals and synths. Glistening under a glitter ball, drenched in shades of pink and blue, front-person PJ commands the crowd with vocals that alternate between soft and screaming. Just as Treeboy promised, the Leeds crowd are reliably enthusiastic – a man in the front row immediately approaches them for a set list after they deliver the final notes of ‘Kafka’.
In between bands, the community surrounding Treeboy and the Brudenell has never been more evident. Lengthy bar queues are interrupted by hugs from unexpected old friends, the smoking area is spilling into the car park, and the merch stand has never felt more welcoming. Before the headliners, Autobahn provide a second dose of anticipatory music. Delivering an intense set full of extraterrestrial whirrs and intense synths amidst dark lighting, it almost feels like the venue has become a nightclub.
By the time Treeboy take to the stage, the crowd are raring to go. Warmed up by the sounds of support bands, the sense of community, and perhaps a couple of pints of Virtuous, they’re ready to give Treeboy the welcome they deserve. Frontman Ben starts the set as he means to go on – just as formidable on stage as he is on record, perhaps even more so.
Whirring synths reverberate around the room, but the heavy guitars and vocals cut through with ease. The band are visibly filled to the brim with enthusiasm for their music and for Leeds, the vocalist expelling the words, “It’s such a privilege to live in this city,” while banging on his chest. The crowd, equal parts Radio 6 dads and youngsters, are right there with him, loosening up as a result of their encouragement.
Treeboy spend most of the set with their legs off the ground, instead preferring to rest them on amps, on monitors, or in the air. Sammy bends over his synth while the co-vocalists look into each others’ eyes with madness and mischief. In between screamed vocals, Ben shrugs, “Fucking Brudenell, man,” with quiet confidence. The whole set is controlled, oscillating between loud and quiet, coordinated even down to the lighting – it’s a demonstration of just how well-acquainted they are.
Their performance ends with ‘The Condor’, their most sprawling song and perhaps their best. Addressing the audience, Ben thanked each of the support acts and “you, too”, before knocking a pint over on his way offstage. Any hopes for an encore are futile; all that remains is an audience in awe and an unopened can of custard on an amp.
