LIVE REVIEW | MARIBOU STATE, NOAH KAHAN, DJO AND STING.

I haven’t quite landed yet. 

I’m still somewhere between Cardiff Castle and the sky, floating in a weird in-between state trying to come to terms with the fact that this past week has been proof that music really does heal all. Doesn’t it? Or at least, I really think it does.

In a world that is turned upside down right now, we’re all searching for some form of an escape, wherever we can find one. Through Glastonbury coverage, lying in parks reading books, taking evening walks around the block, we are all just trying anything to help ease the collective pain the world has thrown us into. 

At the end of this week, I came to the realization that I really needed it. 

I told you this last year and I’ll tell you again now, maybe a few more times (sorry), but I think everyone should experience live music in succession. 

The sweat forming on the back of your neck as you fan yourself, screaming along to your favouirte songs before the main act comes on stage … “I’m really impressed that you know every word to every song!” a lady shouted at me and Lydia on Friday. That feeling when the lights dim, holding onto your friends hands, whispers surrounding you as the anticipation grows, before you’re thrown into a set like no other. Dancing, twirling, singing your heart out, everything, for a second or two feels normal. 

Can I be honest with you for a second? I’d lost faith in gigging. 

I often get caught up in cycles … loving music journalism, then kinda hating it before I fall back in love with it again. The reason I had lost faith this time is purely because it felt as though I was just producing the same thing over and over again, and honestly I started to worry that I no longer had anything important to say. Dramatic, I know, but true. Until I realised that sometimes you don’t have to have anything important to say, you can just say how you feel about something and let it be. It doesn’t have to be grand descriptive statements, it can just be true to you. I felt this and you can read about it, if you want to. 

Then, this week happened. 

From the security guards who escorted us into venues, to the music on stage, I had an epiphany half way through Maribou State on Wednesday that this is exactly where I belong. Surrounded by people I truly adore, listening to music that healed the soul a little and itched my brain in the best of ways, I don’t think I would ever have this any other way. 

Turns out, I was being a little dramatic before, but this week is a week my heart will be singing about for a long time to come. 

Chapter One: I’m In A Maribou State Of Mind | Cardiff Castle, Wednesday 25th June.

Hope has been a recurring theme for me this week and Maribou State is what kick started it all. 

At the barricade, in Cardiff Castle, summer truly felt like it was in the air – something I had unknowingly been searching for through the relentless rain for a while now. 

The air was thick with anticipation, but not in the way you’d expect, more so in a gentle, almost meditative way. Maribou State’s sound is like that perfect British summer day encapsulated in music – a little humid, but every once in a while, there’s this gorgeous breeze that flows through your hair, hitting you softly in the face. A gentle reminder that if you wait long enough, something good will always come. And that something good for me, came in the form of dancing at the barricade with one of my best friends by my side, in disbelief that music could be this good. But, it is. And, I was fortunate enough to witness it. 

Maribou State is the epitome of music you can move around to, letting your body flow and groove, while still feeling as though you are floating high in the sky. Of course, it’s electronic, yes, but with such an organic, soulful core that it feels as though the music is literally growing around you. Like ivy on a door frame (not me, I meant the plant), or the flowers in my Nana’s back garden during the heights of Spring, their music is simply breathtaking. 

The addition of the orchestra and choir on stage took this set to a whole other level, transforming what is already rich soundscapes into something so much more. Monumental, might cover it, however it still feels bigger than that. There were moments, particularly during tracks like ‘Midas’ where the crowd grew to a level of excitement I had never witnessed before. I spent half the set whispering “oh my god” to my friend, almost in a hushed reverence, in disbelief that music like this exists and I was there, in the flesh, seeing it all. 

However, the beauty of their set wasn’t just in the big, sweeping moments. 

There were intricate, delicate details woven throughout, moments where the rhythm would shift, or a new melody would arise from the depths of the instrumentation. It felt as if they collectively transformed into the next chapter right before our eyes, telling a story throughout their music, evolving their sound in real-time. 

I’m unsure what the next chapter is – for me, for them, or for anyone in that crowd – but honestly, something shifted. Changed. It was a beautiful, mesmerising shift that rippled through the crowd, setting a perfect and serene tone for the rest of this week’s musical journey I had accidentally embarked on. 

Maribou State felt significant, in the way their music was pure, being played to a crowd who truly loved to hear every single note they played. You could feel the collective focus, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces … a quiet, joyful contentment radiating through the castle grounds.

Even the small human interactions contributed to the magic. From the first security guard I came across , whispering to him “I’m here for press, can you help?”, in which he replied: “Press?! Look at you go, girl!”. Even the backstage security who offered me advice on how to capture the rainbow that we were greeted with … it was these small moments that made the experience so much better, that much more connected adding another layer to a night that was already perfect.

Chapter Two: I Saw My Celebrity Crush … and Noah Kahan! | Blackweir Fields, Friday 27th June.

Friday brought a double dose of delight and emotional whiplash in the best way possible, set against the sweet Blackweir Fields, a place I called home in my first year living here in Cardiff. We were first treated to the infectious energy of DJO, followed by the heartfelt, grounding melodies of Noah Kahan. 

Even before the music began, the tone was set by the incredible people working behind the scenes. The security guards at Blackweir Fields took such good care of us, making us feel completely at home from the moment we arrived, to the moment we left. They patiently walked us into the venue, ensuring we were settled, their kindness completely adding an extra layer of warmth to the entire experience. 

DJO exploded onto the stage with the biggest, most genuine smile I have ever seen an artist wear. He truly loved what he was doing and it showed in every electrifying move and note. He was completely captivating from the jump and there wasn’t a moment where music wasn’t being played and I wasn’t dancing. His set was a masterclass in controlled chaos – a vibrant journey that effortlessly switched between funky, synth led tracks and more groove, guitar heavy tracks.

My cheeks were literally hurting from smiling so much, my friends by my side, bopping and dancing in the space that we had around us, I honestly didn’t want the set to end and wished I could have watched at least another hour of him performing. 

If attending a gig near the place I used to live wasn’t enough of a full circle moment, witnessing DJO might just be the cherry on top of the already pretty amazing cake. Witnessing an artist that was one of my top artists throughout COVID (sorry, there should have been a trigger warning here), sharing the stage with his friends and doing something he so clearly adores – was incredibly infectious. And, let’s be real girls, getting to see your celebrity crush perform in your city, always feels like a win-win situation. Or, at least it was for me!

In a beautifully contrasting, yet perfectly complementary way, Noah Kahan’s set felt like the relief you kind of needed after DJO left the stage. While Noah’s songs are undoubtedly on the sadder, more introspective side – you still felt remarkably energised and uplifted leaving the show. It was a testament to the raw power and honesty of his lyrics and delivery. 

The energy of the crowd during Noah’s performance was palpable, but it was a different kind of energy. It was a deeply communal one, a shared experience of vulnerability and understanding. This wasn’t about frenetic dancing, but about profound connection. Another thing I know I talk to you about a lot, but it’s so true. 

Fans sang along to every bridge with a kind of power that made you want to take a step back, their voices a collective roar of recognition and empathy. Looking around, it was incredibly sweet to see friends hugging each other tightly, families holding each other close, and couples singing directly to each other, everyone locked in moments of shared emotion. 

Noah’s music creates a space where it’s okay to feel deeply, to acknowledge the storms we weather, but also find comfort in knowing you’re not alone in them. It was a night steeped in deep admiration from the crowd, yes, but also a powerful reminder that there will always be a calm after the storm. And that, that calm might just be exiting a venue as Weird Fishies/Arpeggi by Radiohead plays over the speakers.

You will always get to the other side and I think Noah Kahan’s poignant, hopeful (I told you it was a recurring theme) music is the ultimate testament to that enduring truth. It was as if we were all connected by an invisible string (no, not the Taylor Swift song!), a shared understanding of navigating life’s ups and downs, finding solace in collective vulnerability. 

As DJO says in his song ‘Potion’, “When the book is in the final chapter, man, it’s always sad to go.”, that’s exactly how I felt leaving Blackweir Fields this past Friday. In an odd way, I feel like a few chapters of my own have been closing lately, but hearing that song live and feeling that collective moment, really cemented that feeling for me. It may be sad to go, but I would rather stay moving than stagnant, right?

Chapter Three: Englishman in New … Wait … No, This Was Sting In Cardiff Castle | Cardiff Castle, Saturday 28th June. 

“You look like you’re having fun,” A man exiting the crowd shouted to me and Lydia as we had just got done dancing around to Can’t Stand Losing You. I giggled and nodded, because yeah buddy, I am having fun.

I grew up listening to The Police. 

My parents were big fans of them and I would often come home to Sting singing to me through the speakers throughout the house, or my Dad watching their music videos on the TV (was this a universal Dad thing by the way? Mine loved his music video time!). Sting would accompany us on road trips, during parties … in fact don’t tell my Mum I told you, but I’m pretty sure she had a crush on him!

So to be able to say that I was going to see Sting felt huge. Kind of like my own legend slot that normally happens on a Sunday afternoon in Glastonbury, except I had just finished a shift at the cafe and was very much still in Wales. I know for a fact that this is a show I will be telling my children about in the future, but for now, I’ll stick to telling you all about it.

This gig felt like a masterclass from an artist who has been quietly (or not so, depending on how you look at it) the musical landscape for decades. Clad in the tightest jeans I think I’ve ever seen a man wear, Sting walked onto the Cardiff Castle stage with the kind of confidence you can only get away with, having been doing this for years.

He commanded the space with effortless cool and undeniable talent. His voice, instantly recognisable, had the women of the crowd swooning and the men screaming along to every word. I did not realise how many die hard Sting fans existed, but I do feel as though I met a good chunk of them on Saturday. Every corner of the castle grounds was alive, while Sting weaved through a setlist that spanned his incredible career. 

If you had told me last year that I would be spending a Saturday night in June, Facetiming my Mum during one of her favourite songs, her smile lighting up my small space within the crowd, my best friends hip bumping into mine as we danced our way through the set, I would have laughed. But alas, it was very much real and honestly? I had so much fun. I wish there was a more eloquent way of telling you how much fun I had, but really that is the bottom line.

This night was truly a night of joy and release. A night that was basically just me and Lydia letting loose and letting go. We all need to do that sometimes and what better way to do it, than in the middle of a crowd listening to live music, right? We danced the whole way through, singing along to every word, every guitar rift and every drum beat. It was sweet to be a part of a crowd that spanned generations, all coming together in the name of Sting and our shared love for his timeless music.

The crowd rose to new heights when Roxanne was played, the entire castle seeming to vibrate with energy, jumping and shouting, everyone losing themselves in the moment. I did come to the conclusion that Sting is my Mum’s generation’s Harry Styles, with the way the ladies were fanning themselves and whooping so loudly every time he walked or sang. The energy was contagious and the sheer fun of it all was immeasurable, it was the perfect exclamation mark on a week that was already bursting at the seams. 

And as if the music itself wasn’t enough, the evening held another sweet surprise. As I was walking into the venue, I spotted the same security who had been so kind to me on Wednesday at the Maribou State gig! He recognised me too, giving me a hug and asking how I was. I joked with him that I was getting “too famous” after the events at Friday’s gig, with him responding that he’d happily be my personal security guard. Yeah, you read that right! I’m going up in the world, soon you’ll have to start booking in hours with a PA … but seriously these moments in between the chaos of live music really are the cherry on top. Live music would not be what it is without the people working tirelessly behind the scenes. 

This week has been a powerful reminder of what live music can do for you and for me. 

I know I often talk about the shared connection you feel at a gig and how everytime I walk away from a show, I feel renewed and ready to face the world again. Maybe it sounds repetitive, forgive me if it does, but it’s a truth I feel deep in my bones. This week was a testament to that feeling. It was a blur of chance encounters, meaningful connections and sunny smiles, where everything felt right and not a foot wrong. It’s in those moments, surrounded by music, that you’re reminded of the simple magic of existing. Of being alive. A kind word from a stranger in a crowd, dancing with your friends, laughing with security guards … everything is just how it should be.

Nights like the ones I lived through this week reinforce that maybe this is exactly what I am supposed to be doing, that I am on the right path after all. All of the doubts that have been eating away at me lately of next steps, evaporated. I’ve been left feeling inspired and ready – ready for whatever is to come, ready for right now, ready for me, ready for you, for everything else in between. 

It would be too little to say that this week has been the best of my life, for I understand I say that after every gig I go to. But, I need you to know that this week has healed parts of me that have been feeling a little bruised for a while now. Lucky doesn’t even really cover it, I’m just so, so grateful. Grateful that music exists, grateful that I get to witness it. Grateful I get to learn lyrics to songs that become favourites and grateful to have my friends by my side throughout it all.

I think we all need a little bit of that right now, don’t you?

Written by: Meg Ivy Brunning

Photography by: Meg Ivy Brunning