Live At Leeds 2025 - Review
Live at Leeds returned once again in 2025, further cementing its reputation as a public service as opposed to just any other festival. This year’s pilgrimage to the jewel of West Yorkshire was made all the more challenging by the relentless rainfall and perma-grey skies typical of the season; however, those determined enough to brave the elements were rewarded with an embarrassment of riches in the form of some of the most exciting emerging artists from the UK and around the world.
At a festival with this kind of depth and breadth, one that spans all manner of genres and sounds, experience tells me that you can curate your day in one of two ways. The first is careful consideration: be the insights person, master of the programme, the meticulous planner who knows exactly who they’re seeing, where and when. The second method is to simply go with the flow: throw a dart at the line-up (not literally, of course) and let the guiding hand of fate point you towards new discoveries. Despite the obvious benefits of the former, this year we opted for the latter.
Ticket collection for the event took place just a short walk from the station at The Wardrobe, one of the city’s best venues and the designated hub for the day’s proceedings. With wristband secured, stomach full of Pret a Manger’s finest produce and pint in hand, we descended The Wardrobe’s staircase into what one might call, if suddenly overtaken by a bout of whimsy, a musical Narnia.
First up on the docket was Aaron Rowe, a young Irish singer-songwriter serving up soulful stories of home and the ebb and flow of daily life. Performing with easy humour and supported by a small but passionate contingent of fans from the Emerald Isle, he created an atmosphere far warmer than the weather outside. The crowd marvelled at the versatility of his Capaldi-esque vocal range and songwriting prowess. “Hey Ma” earned the biggest reception of the set, leaving me feeling wholly inadequate as a music reviewer given how many in the room were singing along to each and every word. New to me but clearly breaking through, Aaron was an excellent start to the day and a charming introduction to a new artist.
Photo Credit: Girl Group by Gracie Hall (@gracroc)
From here, we braved the elements for the short walk to Belgrave Music Hall, purveyors of pints, pizza, and today, Girl Group. Five musicians who met while studying at the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts. The quintet performed with rotating responsibilities, each shifting between an impressive array of instruments, voices coalescing all the while into rich, layered harmonies. Their fierce, self-produced synth-pop, paired with neatly choreographed dance routines pushed back playfully against male domination of, well, everything. Drawing influence from the likes of Lily Allen and Wet Leg, the band were perhaps the highlight of the day’s tightly packed schedule. “Rage Song,” a tongue-in-cheek rebuttal to a bloke who sounds, quite frankly, like a bit of an arse, set a high-water mark and immediately found its way onto one of my playlists. With all the feminine ferocity the iconic Self Esteem, the performance confirmed Girl Group as one of the most exciting discoveries of the day. A major one to watch.
Following such a vibrant start, my ageing limbs were already beginning to feel the weight of an ever-growing burden. With fatigued footing, I clambered up the stairs at Headrow House for a double helping of dreampop and rock in the form of Déyyess and Punchbag. The former, another all-female lineup, produced Alvvays-adjacent bangers for a steadily livening crowd, while the latter embodied the energy of something akin to an electronic-enabled Paramore.
Next up, we headed up to Leeds Beckett Students’ Union for Katy J Pearson. I must confess that this part of the day is difficult to deliver with any sense of impartiality; to my mind, KJP is perhaps the finest songwriter of her generation. Unassuming in performance, her three studio albums, Return, Sound of the Morning and her latest record Someday, Now (released in 2024) contain enough material for a far longer set. Yet, she provided a perfect palate cleanser within her 45-minute allocation for anyone unfamiliar with her joyous, folk-pop musings.
Photo Credit:Déyyess by Gracie Hall (@gracroc)
By this point, a brief reprieve from the music was in order. We decamped to The Fenton, a pub occupying the boundary between the Otley Run and the rest of sober civilisation, a strange mix of traditional boozer and industrial rave. What was intended as one drink to wet the whistle before headliner Jalen Ngonda quickly became two or three, as waves of wizards, Marios, 118 men, Paddington Bears and one timely, well-turned-out Claudia Winkleman crossed our path. People-watching briefly became the entertainment as we took a welcome opportunity to regain some energy for what was still to come.
Now, what we’d all been waiting for. Jalen Ngonda emerged on the Leeds Beckett Students’ Union stage just after 9:30. Despite a small trip as he came out to greet the crowd, he exuded an unmistakable sense of cool, clad in a blue Western shirt and grey slacks. What followed can only really be regarded as over an hour of transcendent elation. His voice, smooth, elastic and startlingly precise felt both timeless and unmistakably his own. He delivered a set packed with vintage soul charm without ever tipping into pastiche, each song unfolding with a knowing confidence that held the crowd entirely in the palm of his hand. When he finally closed out the night, Leeds Beckett felt less like a student union and more like the glory days of Wigan Casino. A hall of fame performance from one of the world’s best.
Striding back into the city centre in the warm afterglow of Jalen Ngonda, one question crossed my mind. Time for one more? Yes, obviously. Who? By all accounts Westside Cowboy drew a big crowd at Belgrave Music Hall, but we were instead drawn to the sensual hyper-pop stylings of Babymorocco. Backed by two DJs, he romped through 45 minutes of sweaty, seductive dance music, performing pull-ups, taking shots and dousing himself in water throughout. After the soulful reverie of Ngonda, this performance appealed to an altogether more carnal part of the collective psyche, but was no less satisfying.
Photo Credit: Jalen Ngonda by James Keane
This is the enduring appeal of Live at Leeds, its range and restless curiosity make it a festival for everyone. There’s comfort in spending the day with artists you already know, of course, but in hindsight that feels like missing the point. In an age when malign tech overlords are quietly curating our tastes, choosing to drift, to follow instinct rather than algorithm, opens the door to discoveries you can carry long after the festival draws to a close. I arrived in Leeds already devoted to Katy J Pearson and Jalen Ngonda but I left hunting tour dates for Girl Group and Babymorocco.
This year, Live at Leeds again proved why it remains one of the UK’s most vital one-dayers. It isn’t just a celebration of music; it’s a celebration of discovery and a welcome return to a more analogue way of doing things. The rain, the queues, the aching limbs, all fade away when an artist like Jalen Ngonda hushes a room, or when an act like Girl Group sends it roaring back to life. I left Leeds with soaked shoes, a full heart and a handful of new obsessions. That, in the end, is the sign of a festival doing all the right things.
