The big review: Reading & Leeds Festival 2025

Whether your headwear of choice is a red cap or pink cowboy hat, Reading & Leeds have got you covered. And on a baking Bank Holiday Weekend, the annual summer blowout continues its mission statement of showcasing what's hot right now, from the welcome return of Bring Me The Horizon through to the ongoing renaissance of Limp Bizkit and the litany of new acts blurring the lines and sharpening the edges of what's possible.

Having managed to get all the dust out of our eyes and ears, here's what went down at this year's double-header...

You have to feel for Bartees Strange. With the majority of Bramham Park still fixing their Friday morning hangovers, barely a hundred fans are scattered around the Festival Republic Stage. No problem at all, says his gloriously funked-up indie-rock, giving Leeds a whistle-stop tour through all his influences, from post-hardcore to jazz. The apex of which is the mushy guitar solo to Wants Needs, as he wields his red Gibson SG like a katana. In a tough setting, you still get the sense that this is much more than ‘job done’ for Bartees and his band, but he shoots straight into first place for the weekend’s best kept secret. (RS)

Is it opposite day in shoegaze land? Instead of a lush wall of guitars with vocals buried within it, Glixen vocalist Aislinn Ritchie’s docile tones are crystal clear, which wouldn't be a problem if the riffs were more than a watery dribble. The sound remains wobbly for a significant proportion of their lunchtime set, which is a real shame, but thankfully things pick up later on. By the time they float through the otherworldly languor of lick the star, their potential glimmers through – if only they could have had more space to spread their wings. (EW)

This isn’t merely a show – this is a performance. Greeted by a baying crowd holding their phones to the sky, Sofia Isella is a majestic presence, often in a state of flux. Her movements are twitchy at times, sinuous at others, with a witchlike hold on the crowd throughout Hot Gum and the elegant jazz pop of The Doll People, as she alternately picks up a violin and then an electric guitar. Even when a power cut derails proceedings, she returns and whirls back into action like nothing happened. Something’s brewing here – it’s like witnessing a storm in a teacup. (EW)

Well, this is a vibe. SNAYX have thrown a giant party on the Festival Republic Stage, everyone’s invited, and the groove is flowing through every single body in the tent. “You’re looking lovely!” yells vocalist Charlie Herridge as the moshers kick dust clouds into the air through the buzzing Sink Or Swim, the irresistibly danceable Strut, and fizzy unreleased cut Fake. It certainly helps that the revellers are full of beans still and excited for the weekend ahead, but the wonderful thing about today is that it both feels like the Brighton trio are getting the reception they deserve, and are showing just how much they’re capable of. This lot are extremely good at being fun. (EW)

On the first day of Reading, when all the buzz seems to be around Chappell Roan’s co-headline set, it takes something special to distract the pink cowboy-hatted masses from their HOT TO GO! dance routine rehearsals. And Artio certainly make a good pitch: after all, on songs such as Babyface and Product Of My Own Design, charismatic singer Rae Brazill has as much to say about identity and liberation as Chappell. The band’s full-throttle mix of emo and heavier influences is certainly intriguing enough to pull in many a passing punter, suggesting they’re maybe just one killer bop away from being truly hot to go places… (MS)

“Thank you for not putting us on at the same time as Chappell,” sighs Missy Dabice as she takes the stage. But if the animal lovers of Reading initially choose the Pink Pony Club over the Punk Pussy equivalent, the tent soon fills to give Mannequin Pussy the audience they deserve. Missy is on rabble-rousing form, getting the crowd to issue “a perfect scream” when sound issues almost scupper Ok? Ok? Ok? Ok!, and switching from breathy Marilyn Monroe whisper to full-throated Brody Dalle rasp as Aching and Romantic rattle teeth and blow minds. A blistering Loud Bark, meanwhile, is dedicated to “all the matriarchs” and MP are the femininomenon we all need. (MS)

High Vis are not fucking around. Despite sweltering temperatures, singer Graham Sayle arrives in his coat, like he’s not stopping. And, while he’s soon shirtless, there’s still a real sense of urgency about how the London punk crew go about their business. Graham is angry about lots of things – the NHS, Palestine and modern life all get a mention – but High Vis channel his fury into laser-focused rock anthems like Out Cold; equal parts punk rock and Britpop, as if the Gallagher brothers had been raised on hardcore. “We’re just a knobhead band, we feel lucky as fuck,” declares the frontman but, really, it’s the people in the tent tonight that are the lucky ones. (MS)

“This has now become a karaoke set,” chuckles Chats singer/bassist Eamon Sandwith as he swigs from a can and struggles with technical gremlins. “They all sound the same, right?” Well, kinda, but that’s the beauty of The Chats: they play rock’n’roll so stupendously unsophisticated it makes fellow Aussies Amyl And The Sniffers look like Rush in comparison, and sing songs so thrillingly basic you could probably teach them to reception classes. It would certainly make for an interesting circle time: the likes of 6L GTR, Half Arsed and Smoko are such ribald slices of life Down Under that they’re like getting punched in the face and laughing hysterically at the same time. (MS)

Frontman James Joseph tells the crowd how he and his bandmates’ first Reading visit came after, “We failed our GCSEs because we cared about music more than anything else”. Perhaps that’s why James And The Cold Gun seem so determined to go back to the old school. With his splayed legs, indoor shades and Sunset Strip swagger, James is certainly cut from the same vintage cloth as his classic Manic Street Preachers T-shirt, but songs such as Twist The Knife tread a fine line between ‘retro’ and ‘downright dated’. A full-blooded cover of Echo & The Bunnymen’s Lips Like Sugar hints at hidden depths, but this Gun could do with hitting the target more often. (MS)

“Who's ready to fuck?!” roars Phoebe Lunny. Kneedeep into the biggest year of their lives, Lambrini Girls have earned a well-deserved promotion to the main stage, and they’re owning it. Phoebe dashes along the runway during the biting Big Dick Energy to get the crowd crouching and jumping back up, while Selin Maciera casually lies down as she plays her bass. A big stage, of course, means a huge platform, where they decry police brutality, call for a free Palestine and take aim at controversial private equity firm KKR – “Get your hands out of our music festivals!” cries Selin. Ending on a joyous note with the gloriously sweary dance party that is Cuntology 101, they’ve truly found the fun in fighting back. (EW)

Fresh they may be, but South Arcade already feel like superstars. Drawing a huge turnout to the main stage, they arrive 15 minutes late seemingly due to technical issues, but it means the fans awaiting them are like coiled springs and pits instantly break open as soon as they swagger through effervescent opener 2005. They’ve also got some genius props in the form of four spraypaint cans, which intermittently blast clouds of smoke. Nothing about this screams ‘newcomer’; be it vocalist Harmony Cavelle’s playful-yet-assured coolness or the joy in the air when they stomp through the neon-splattered hit Supermodels. Forget rising, they’ve risen. (EW).

There are times during Reading 2025 when it feels like there are more stalls selling duck on site than there are fans interested in the future of British rock music. Mouth Culture’s exhilarating set is definitely not one of those times. Because, while singer Jack Voss’ T-shirt looks a couple of sizes too small, everything else fits perfectly: instant anthems such as Ratbag and Regret 101, oven-ready rock star presence, and the sort of supercharged intensity that makes a band stand out from the pack. No wonder the tent is crammed with hyped-up moshers who know Mouth Culture are destined for much bigger stages than this. Time to join the Culture club… (MS)

Tonight, Origami Angel frontman Ryland Heagy becomes the first person to say, “Here’s a little jazz number for you” at Reading since the old jazz and blues shindig went rock in 1972. He’s exaggerating his band’s scope, but only slightly: the Washington DC-based outfit essentially sound like every genre in history all sheltering under one big emo-rock umbrella. When it works, as on Dirty Mirror Selfie’s explosive beginning and Wretched Trajectory’s massive clap-along, it’s brilliant. And even when it doesn’t, as during that mid-set metal/jazz fusion detour, it’s still pretty interesting. Either way, Origami Angel certainly look like a band that won’t, um, fold under pressure. (MS)

Who invited SOFT PLAY to the Chevron? Before the Rudimental and AJ Tracey die-hards even have the chance to gasp, Isaac Holman and Laurie Vincent’s rabble transforms the open-air dance stage into a dust bowl of mosh-pits. Isaac, beating his drums like a personal trainer during Sockets, soon makes a beeline for the crowd. “Right then, how do I get down here?” he queries, commanding the faithful like the King of Yorkshire – he even waves like the Queen when he’s back onstage. Every single word of Punk’s Dead is shrieked back before Laurie whips out the mandolin for Everything And Nothing, dedicated to “everyone fucking going through it.” The boys share a quick peck on the lips, and the job’s a good ‘un. Chef’s kiss. (RS)

Pale Waves are glowing just as much as the elaborate lights set up behind them. Swaying gently as they strum their instruments, the Manchester quartet’s glassy sound and gooey lyrics, from the giddy Kiss Me Again to the wistful Love Song – and a smart cover of The Cranberries’ Zombie – make it easy to stand back and bathe in the atmosphere. Though their performance is mostly a stand-still-and-play affair, they come into their own later. “I am very very queer,” says Heather Baron-Gracie to introduce She’s My Religion. “Who doesn’t love women right? They’re so fucking beautiful.” She wears a lesbian pride flag like a cape throughout the song, before closer Jealousy brings a last-minute surge in energy. All in all, it’s bloody lovely. (EW)

Give us a smile, Leeds! No need to ask if you’re The Linda Lindas, whose happy-go-lucky stage presence is gorgeously reciprocated by a hearty crowd, who bounce on Lucia de La Garza’s command. Bassist Eloise Wong is on another level – quite literally – leaping around the stage with a massive grin on her face during Growing Up. Oh!, meanwhile, has a hint of Jimmy Eat World about it, firmly belonging on the opening titles of a romcom. K! peeps Ollie from SNAYX at the side of stage, absolutely loving it. Full marks for this bottomless pit optimism from The Linda Lindas, who remind us why being in a band is – and can always be – the dream job. (RS)

While half the world rushes to secure their spot for Chappell Roan, K! spies some Download and Sempiternal tees amongst the few who remain on the barrier of the Festival Republic Stage. That’s because Heartworms, aka south London’s Jojo Orme, is right up their street – arriving onstage to some sinister synth concoction that’s a bit Zetra-meets-NIN. Her face is down, shielded by a thick black bob. Pungent green lighting makes the tent feel like a one-way ticket to the dungeon. Nevertheless, amidst this carefully curated ambience is a seriously talented artist, whose gothic wails easily flip-flop from Billie Eilish to Billy Corgan. “I don’t wish murder ’cause I got no right,” she assures us before Extraordinary Wings. After this spooky showing, even we don’t completely believe her. (RS)

Rou Reynolds walks on stage giving the crowd the old Chloe Kelly ‘calm down’ gesture, but no-one comes to Enter Shikari at Reading to chill. The band have a long history of destroying the festival’s stages, but this time they have to work for it. A few years away and the festival’s ever-evolving demographic mean there are fewer people here familiar with Shikari’s smash-and-grab style, but they deliver a masterclass from the opening Bloodshot through to the juddering finale of A Kiss For The Whole World X. In between, Rou provides everything from impassioned-but-considered talks on climate change and Gaza (“It’s not a tragedy, it’s a war crime”) to dad jokes (“Who wants to let off some steam?” he quips, pressing the dry ice button). By the time they leave in a haze of smoke and mosh-pit carnage, another generation of festival-goers have been indoctrinated into the ways of Shikari. Long may they keep calm and carry on… (MS)

The four members of unpeople all look like they’re in different bands, so it’s no wonder their music also tries to deliver something for everyone. They stitch together a dizzying range of genres from metalcore to pop-punk to what sounds like a sea shanty – sometimes, bewilderingly, in the same chorus – but the whole thing gels well enough to make their set an attractive option between the Shikari/Bizkit/Horizon Main Stage mayhem. “Bang those pretty little heads of yours!” exhorts frontman Jake Crawford and the crowd oblige on the pithy likes of Smother and Moon Baboon, before guitarist Luke Caley ends the show careering through the crowd on someone’s shoulders, still soloing wildly. Power to the Unpeople… (MS)

How many hogs can you crank in one tent? Loads, apparently. The Festival Republic Stage is heaving as Johnny Franck (aka Bilmuri) bounds on stage like an excited dog for an uproarious rendition of EMPTYHANDED. Gleefully throwing pop hooks, big riffs and a country twang into a blender, they match their huge tunes with goofy stage patter (“This song is about busting the biggest nut possible!” Johnny quips to introduce BOUTTA CASHEW), as well as huge gratitude. “I feel so fucking loved, man,” he says of the warm reaction they’ve had today. Bringing out South Arcade’s Harmony Cavelle for a thunderous BETTER HELL (Thicc boi), they’ve got all the kookiness and energy that festivalgoers crave. Perhaps the Download main stage will come calling soon… (EW)

We said: Tonight’s spectacle is a Bring Me The Horizon show turned up to 11, or even 12 to be honest. Banging their heads in front of an opulent church-like backdrop, fireworks explode above them at an astonishing rate, smoke billows from columns in the crowd, and plumes of fire jet from seemingly all angles. Their eye-popping visuals are designed almost as a love letter of the art of video games, and skits featuring their characters E.V.E. and M8 feel more thorough and humorous as they progress BMTH’s world-building. Performance-wise, it’s heightened just as much as their production. Happy Song is titanic, AmEn sounds absolutely merciless, while Kool-Aid has a devilish menace to it that feels shiny and new all over again. Their setlist isn’t radically different from what they’ve done in the last couple of years, but the one curveball is their wacky-yet-genius cover of Wonderwall, which fits in seamlessly with their usual bangers.

Read our full review of Bring Me The Horizon's Reading headline set.

“Come on Leeds, you can do better than that,” sighs Eva Sheldrake, after Eville’s first attempt at a mosh-pit goes pear-shaped. Four songs later, there’s a wall of death. That’s how convincing the brilliant Brighton trio are, sounding unbelievably well-oiled with their electrified metal that’s cut from the same cloth as The Prodigy and WARGASM. Riley Sweeney takes off his bass and gets involved with some growls on Slay, his dynamism with Eva coming off like a monstrous duet between Winston McCall and Courtney LaPlante. Debut EP BRAT METAL isn’t even out yet, but there are already signs that Eville are close to the finished article. (RS)

“When I say Otto, you say Wood! When I say Geoff, you say… just Geoff!” Waterparks’ Awsten Knight chants. Reading and Leeds are the Texan trio’s first shows in a year and with batteries recharged and any rusty feelings swept away, they’re firmly back on their bullshit in the best possible way. They’re sounding tight too, with Numb getting the fans bouncing like the floor’s a trampoline, and the scuzzy Turbulent offers a huge mosh moment for those who don’t mind getting dust all over their clothes. It’s stupidly fun, unafraid to be silly, and it’s no wonder their fans absolutely adore them. (EW)

Shoegaze is having a bit of a moment right now, so OVERSIZE's last-minute addition (presumably to replace House Of Protection) is a shrewd move. “Who’s been here all weekend?” squawks buoyant guitarist Lewis Lennane-Emm. Silence. Today’s day ticket holders are clearly the ones gunning to discover something new, for which the Salisbury five-piece are eternally grateful, as they show off February’s debut album Vital Signs. Fall Apart’s meaty riff is a notable highlight, but OVERSIZE excel in their consistency – avoiding the trap of their name by overcooking their formula. Although there are few standout moments to perk up the crowd, this is a band for patient ears – and it’s a telling compliment that few dare to leave the tent. (RS)

Reading’s backstage area is plastered with posters of the festival’s legendary line-ups from years gone by, but Amyl And The Sniffers would surely have thrived in any previous festival era. “I hope your serotonin levels are holding up,” grins Amy Taylor as she launches into Tiny Bikini, but three days of sleep deprivation, sunburn and excess are no match for the mood-enhancing qualities of the Sniffers live experience. A joyous surge of energy jolts through the crowd, multiple mosh-pits kicking up huge clouds of dust as refreshing blasts of unreconstructed rock anthems old (Security, Guided By Angels) and new (Chewing Gum, U Should Not Be Doing That) make for one of the performances of the weekend. Amy, meanwhile, is the absolute real deal, flexing her muscles both literally and metaphorically and pausing only to holler, “Fuck JK Rowling!” and “Fuck Trump!” And, in a divided world, at least everyone can agree on one thing: Amyl And The Sniffers should appear much higher on those Reading & Leeds line-up posters in the future… (MS)

Ecca Vandal's set is designed to keep you on your toes. One minute your ears are being blasted off by bass-heavy beats, and the next we're seemingly listening to Reggaeton. The centrepoint is her punk-rap swagger, enhanced by her sideways-facing drummer and a guitarist/synth/bassist who part like the Red Sea to leave much of the stage free. It's clear the South African-born artist has taken a leaf out of Fred Durst's book from her time on the Loserville tour, spewing a list of demands at the crowd, who willingly oblige. At times, the clash of genres is jarring, but an improved rhythm section and her unerring charisma sets the tone for her future potential. (RS)

When Wunderhorse drew the largest crowd in BBC Introducing Stage history at last year’s Leeds Festival, its humble PA system could barely compete with the Chevron’s background noise. The solution? Upgrade them to that very stage. Maybe frontman Jacob Slater knows K! are in town today, sporting a Ride The Lightning tee, although his howls sound closer to Biffy’s Simon Neil than the Hetfield rasp. These sleeping giants of indie-rock exude aura, sing-alongs and unpredictability, be it the punk-tinged Americana of Leader Of The Pack or closer Rain giving a freeing moment of catharsis. They’re four shy lads, but today’s set is distinctly mature and raw in equal measure – proving why arenas are their obvious next step. (RS)

Take a look around. If yesterday was about Chappell Roan’s pink cowboy hats, today is a takeover of red snapbacks. “I still party harder than your dad,” croons Fred Durst, addressing the revellers celebrating their GCSE results who were born a whole decade (gulp) after the nu-metal utopia of 1999. Kicking things off with a U.S. geography exam in Show Me What You Got, Bramham Park is soon transformed into a bouncy castle. Break Stuff is unleashed four songs in. “Some of you only came for this,” he jabs.

Fred’s on an urgent mission to make this Limp Bizkit set as bonkers as possible. DJ Lethal willingly assists, chucking in Careless Whisper – to introduce their Faith cover – Sweet Home Alabama and Proud Mary. “You think it’s okay if I walk out on Oli Sykes’ ramp?” Fred teases, before Oli’s face joins the Gallagher brothers and Tom Cruise in a never-ending train of on-screen AI memes. Nookie is ludicrous, while a young kid introduced as “the local” is invited up to absolutely flatten Full Nelson. Another round of Break Stuff seals the story: it's an absolute knockout. (RS)

Read this next:

• Oli Sykes: “I still feel like the underdog… But it’s important to stop smell the roses, and to be like, ‘This is f*cking amazing, what we’ve achieved’”
  
• Amyl And The Sniffers: “This music is about my whole life, and where it will take me. I’m still figuring it all the f*ck out”
• Lambrini Girls: “This is exactly what was meant to come out. This is exactly the kind of album that was meant to be written”