
Big Special by Isaac Watson

Big Special’s tour feels less like a traditional gig and more like a state of the nation address for bands in 2026.
The state of bands in 2026.
The Big Special-curated bill for their tour is impressive. On the back of their well-received second album and some standalone singles, the duo are gathering momentum.
Both support acts, GANS and Good Health Good Wealth, released debut albums last year but haven’t done much touring in support, presumably for reasons of expense.
As such, this tour feels less like a traditional gig and more like a state of the nation address for bands in 2026.
Seven musicians across three bands (one pulling a double shift), made up of two ‘drummers’, two ‘guitarists’ (three if you count Big Special’s Joe Hicklin when he straps one on for a couple of songs), two singers, one saxophonist and barely any bass guitar to speak of.
Of course, they are all doing much more than play just one instrument; they whiz back and forth in their own space on stage, turning dials or pressing keys.
Callum Moloney of the headliners informs the crowd that there are fourteen people on the tour in total, each crew member dutifully thanked. There’s a tight turnaround between sets, while Moloney handles his own soundcheck.
As has been reported, touring has just become too expensive for acts at this level, and so this appears to be what being a band means now: lean and taking on much of the work themselves.
In a broader sense, this is why tickets are now so expensive; it’s just not cost-effective otherwise.
Not to denigrate any of the bands (and the ticket price tonight was perfectly reasonable), but the whole evening is informative. Fortunately, personality is something each of tonight’s performers has in abundance.
Opening the night were Good Health Good Wealth, fronted by the affable Bruce Breakey performing with his arm in a sling which restricted his movement but not his personality.
Beside him, Simon Kuzmickas, multi-instrumentalist and resident guitar foil, was constantly on the move, deploying chiming, Edge-esque tones that shimmered above the rhythmic pulse.
On the swinging disco of Moonlight, Kuzmickas exaggerates his postures, perhaps to lighten the physical load on Breakey, providing a theatrical counterweight to the frontman’s stream-of-consciousness storytelling.
There’s a clear lineage to their influences, with a touch of Laurie Vincent’s wiry urgency mixed with the gleeful dancing of Andrew Fearn.
You Don’t Know Me is complete with a full-throttle 80’s chord-thrashing outro, while The Café is a moment of yearning romanticism.
Closer Full Circle delivered the set’s most amusing lyric: ‘My jeans were full of more holes than a racist argument’. Good Health Good Wealth’s charm and proficiency get an already-pretty-full venue onside.
Welsh poet Matt Nõmme is compère, keeping the energy levels up, but he may as well have not bothered as GANS followed with a thrilling charge into motorik industrial electro-rock.
The Birmingham trio’s sound is relentless, with rapid-fire dual vocals delivered with incessant intensity, underpinned by pounding rhythms engineered for movement.
Saxophonist/flautist Tommy Smokes added a dexterity absent from the recordings, be that the wiry 60’s garage-rock of Nightwalking, which stomps with righteous purpose, or I Think I Like You, where drummer Euan Woodman demanded crowd participation, circles forming on the floor as instructed.
New track Step-Psychosis suggests the best is yet to come, while closer This Product Dub veered into Underworld-esque propulsion, all neon pulse and controlled chaos.

Big Special by Isaac Watson
Big Special took to the stage, and jokingly introduced themselves as Getdown Services, a knowing nod to the current Bristol favourites.
The high-octane Black Country Gothic opened, paving the way for a diverse set of industrial textures, ska and soul buried beneath the grit.
The Gorillaz-esque Hug A Bastard skanks with metallic insistence, complete with an impressive drum workout by Moloney. Desperate Breakfast is a marauding blitzkrieg, relentless and cathartic.
Moloney and Hicklin both now live in Bristol, but the unmistakably Black Country outlook of grim humour, bruised romanticism and stubborn pride remains.
Between songs Moloney handled the crowd interaction with a drummer’s comedic timing, while Hicklin stood back, quietly preparing his next emotional detonation.
On the sumptuous Black Dog/White Horse, his soulful delivery was majestic, while This Here Ain’t Water triggered an impressive singalong.
Hicklin strapped on a guitar for Sluglife (much to the amusement of Moloney) and a painfully raw Dragged Up A Hill (And Thrown Down the Other Side).
A raffle was referenced throughout the night, raising money for the family of sadly departed friend James Burrow, leading to several chants of ‘Fuck Cancer’.
As is their way, Big Special made the raffle draw a comedic event, launching a drum skin to the winner across the room.
A playful skit involving their manager prefaced the moshing bounce of YesBoss, Shithouse hardly needed its mock build-up (‘this is the ‘last’ song’), detonating on cue with the audience happy to do their part.
A pulsing Trees was righteous, with even Moloney describing it as ‘special’.
While Hicklin barely uttered a word between songs, Moloney kept the crowd entertained, but mainly engaging in sleight of hand while resetting his desk to cue up the next backing track.
Both are wonderfully talented; Hicklin has a voice for the ages while Moloney provides backing vocals, drums and much more.
While the traditional nature of band has evolved to something smaller, in Big Special’s case, they don’t need anyone else.









