There’s always something quietly special about wandering into the relaxed glow of Hyde Park Book Club in the centre of Leeds’ student city. So when I heard Lozenge were playing to mark the release of their precocious second‑born EP Everything, it was a no‑brainer.

Down in the cellar Supermaus opened the night, a Leeds band who’ve been slowly fermenting a reputation over the past couple of years, helped by the release of their debut EP Out of Body earlier this year.

Though its members have been within the Leeds creative scene for a decade, Supermaus are a relatively recent formation — still clearly in their growth and development phase.

Supermaus draw on grunge, goth and shoegaze roots, weaving in an engaging thread of pressure and tension, and enough musical chops to lift their sound above a busy crowd.

They cite a strong pedigree of influences including PJ Harvey, Nirvana, Alice in Chains and The Cure, and you can detect flahes of each.

Vocalist Helen Edgeworth has a clear, grounded presence, and the oft lyric themes across their set; reflective thoughts, longing, emotional dislocation and relationships; blend well.

Supermaus were enjoyable tonight with well enough draw and presence to make it exciting to see where they grow next.

Onto headliners, Lozenge. Live, Lozenge delivered a masterclass in loud, busy, clever shoegaze – driving, persistent rhythms, dark rolling vistas, and plenty of space for the mind to wander. They’re urgent and forceful, yet measured and controlled; a clever balance.

This was Lozenge’s first headline show of the year.

From the opening burst of Silver, Lozenge were on point all evening. They’re still a relatively new band with first releases dating from 2024 – though I did spot a couple of former Dead Naked Hippies among their number.

I’ve got a slow‑burner kind of brain, and when life is busy it sometimes takes a while to fully understand what it has witnessed. On the night Lozenge loosely reminded me of an early Nirvana run‑through — only with a solid but understated guide vocal rather than Kurt’s strident offerings.

But by the following afternoon, after replaying the rhythms, that chunky meaty bass, and the quietly reassuring vocal in my head, I realised I’d done Lozenge a generalising disservice. Beyond the clever considered appeal to their sound, there was a halo of fuzz around the vocals, and a subtle hint of Jesus and Mary Chain type pop sensibility in the mix.

My shoes had been well and truly been gazed – to the point where I can see the outlines of my toenails. Lozenge are the real deal.

That blend of driving power and moody sentiment sat beautifully on this stage. The audience agreed; a wrapt bunch of faces followed every move. Lozenge play with care and strong purpose and that power and control shines through.

Words and images: Tiggerligger