But can they do it on a cold night in Sheffield? | How big occasions can ruin good gigs
I’ve had about ten pints of lager at this point. The silhouettes of Picture Parlour are lost amongst smoke, lights and audience members taller than me. But Christ, who cares?
As far as Fridays in Sheffield are concerned, this one was pretty ordinary; the air hung cold as the chatter of northerners darted from different corners of pubs and beer gardens, conversations about the rising price of pints, a distant dream of summer, and England’s chances at the World Cup, lingering like mist. Across the street, you had Picture Parlour, tuning guitars, tightening drum skins, and doing whatever pre-gig rituals they’ve found work, all getting ready for this flood of pub-goers to spill into Yellow Arch.
The band was preaching to the converted with me. I called Ella Risi guitarist of the year in 2025, and have been a fan of the group for a while now, but this was the first time I’d ever caught them as a headline act. Previous listens had been confined to earphones, speakers, and not long enough headline sets, so it was exciting getting to see Picture Parlour play a full show in a crowd consisting of just their fans.
Suffice to say, they killed it. Lovers of rock music should be giving Picture Parlour more attention, as when you draw two big ol’ circles, one for classic rock and the other for the modern iteration of the genre, one of the only bands that sit comfortably in the middle of that Venn diagram are these Liverpudlians. Influences from back in the day are worn firmly on sleeves as if they’re the classiest of cufflinks, and yet, Picture Parlour’s sound is certainly post-2020. They’re not a tribute to the good ol’ days, and they’re also not a carbon copy of other rock bands doing well at the moment; they’re a beautiful amalgamation of the two, and everyone in that room heard it.
Even the most ale-stained, pissed-up eyes and ears can see and hear clearly just how much of a dominant force the band were that night, as the crowd latched on to every single millisecond of sound. It’s the kind of gig that used to run rabid in the Sheffield scene, but that seems to have dwindled in recent years. Stumbling home that night, once the adrenaline had settled, a question remained: why isn’t this happening all the time?
Let me stop you right there before you start with your interjections of ‘Those gigs are happening all the time, you just have to go out and find them!’, because yes, I get that, but I’m pretty damn active in my local scene and recognised that Picture Parlour show as a particular anomaly. After a ponder, I have a theory. The first reason it stood out so much is because of the band (as I’ve said, they’re pretty good), but there was something else going on, and it was down to the crowd.
People were on board with the music as soon as the pick hit the strings, and it meant the hour that followed was a pretty beautiful thing to be a part of. The people of Sheffield are guilty of this, but I imagine it’s a problem in a lot of cities with big musical histories, and that’s that sometimes, punters can get so obsessed with the occasion, with what something means, that they lose sight of what’s happening right in front of them.
July, 2025. A hush falls over Hillsborough Park as Pulp take to the stage to headline Tramlines Festival. The only set in the UK they’d done that year prior to this was a surprise appearance at Glastonbury, so to be playing in front of a home crowd, at the biggest festival Sheffield has to offer, was a big deal, and everybody knew it. ‘Spike Island’ kicked in, and the band set the tone for the entire show. They were on fire, but something was missing.
That thing that was missing? Nothing. But when the show is a big occasion like that, the audience (myself included) tends to invent this intangible thing that needs to be given form for the gig to live up to expectations. It was a Pulp gig, and so Pulp played, and we all went home, the world kept turning, the sun rose once again the next morning, nothing changed. But, for a lot of people in that audience, something should have.
A similar thing happened when Miles Kane closed the Leadmill last year. It was the last ever show at the iconic Sheffield venue, which has been home to a number of great bands, and given its foundation is pretty heavily rooted in indie rock, it made sense for a great indie rock act to be the final person to perform. He was outstanding, he’s always been a fantastic frontman and that night was no different, beers flew, the lyrics to songs were screamed, and yet there was a sense of panic and confusion in the air as the Miles Kane gig wound up being…well…just a Miles Kane gig.
I saw him again in Sheffield, only a few months later at Crookes Social Club, a venue which isn’t closing down, amongst a crowd who were just there for a gig, and it was a great deal better. Not because Kane played any differently, he didn’t, but there was a lot less pressure on the night, and so people threw themselves into the gig more.
As people go to shows less (which isn’t necessarily the audience’s fault; times are hard), the gigs they do wind up going to come with an added pressure. People are less content about a gig being an hour worth of music, which is odd, given that’s exactly what they are. They have to hype them up, make it a big occasion, and when they do that, they effectively stagnate what could otherwise be an excellent set.
I’m not saying that gigs aren’t big occasions for the artists performing. I’m sure Miles Kane put a lot of effort into both of his shows, and I know Picture Parlour gave their all at Yellow Arch, but crowds shouldn’t hold out for those ‘historical’ events, intangible moments, as, if they do, every single show they see will fall short of the mark. Big occasions ruin good gigs because people feel the pressure to capture an ‘I was there’ moment so badly that they fail to recognise the actual moment they’re in.
Picture Parlour in Sheffield was a great night because the band are one of the best out there, but also the audience were willing to simply throw themselves into the performance rather than put too much pressure on the hour it occupied. They drank, they danced, and for a while, the world was a better place because of it, and the result was a show that will live on in people’s memories for a long time. A night of good music, good times with good people, gigs don’t need to be any more complicated than that, and the minute we start trying to make them as much, is the minute we lose them.
