Co-headliners Himalayas and The Haunt rock The Dome
Words: Alfie Sansom
Photos: Amy Smith
★★★★☆
Photo: Amy Smith / Thekla, Bristol
Tufnell Park’s, The Dome, was almost full for the opening act; an impassioned set of pop-punk/rock by the indefatigable Tally Spear. A homecoming show, Spear prowled the stage, reeling off lyrics about dating and general listlessness. That’s not so say her set didn’t have its serious moments: her last song, ‘Here Comes The Rain’, was dedicated to her dad or anyone who’s lost someone.
After an exodus to the bar, the first of two headliners appeared on stage. Himalayas swaggered into view to a house remix of Foreigner’s ‘Cold As Ice’, before settling into a heavy groove with ‘Cave Paintings’. Their riffs writhed like snakes on a sceptre, snarling and stomping throughout 2025’s ‘Surrender’ and 2023’s ‘Leave This Place’, equal parts Muse, Arctic Monkeys and Royal Blood (albeit with twice as many members).
Photo: Amy Smith / Thekla, Bristol
Every couple of songs were punctuated by a laddish (although thankfully tolerable) banter, the highlight of which was the drummer spotting a man dressed as Wally, beanie and all, in the crowd. Mosh pits were demanded frequently, at their most hectic during lead singer Joe Williams’ classic indie yowls. One of the highlights for me, much to the chagrin of the fist-pumpers and mosh-pitters, was ‘Heavy Weather’ with its gothic keys and eerie melodies, a much moodier affair more suited to a sway than a battle of bodies. That didn’t stop some audience members from trying, though.
The set was studded with covers and rarities, besides the usual Himalayas fare. Their eclectic influences were shown through renditions of KISS and Coolio, while the seldom- played ‘Ecstasy’ (from the Himalayas’ 2016 debut EP) whipped the crowd up with an almost prog-riff, returning to their grittier sound for the chorus.
After another rush to get drinks, The Haunt took to the stage as a Wu-Tang track blared through the speakers. This set, fronted by sibling duo Anastasia and Maxamillion Haunt, was a more playful collection of songs, though still laced with menace. ‘Bad Omen’ raged with a sinister self-awareness; ‘Morally Incompetent’ marched with a rowdy anxiety. It seemed that the secret to The Haunt’s appeal was a tension in their music, the brashness of their sound versus the insecurity and vulnerability of their lyrics.
All their songs were sweeping displays of unbridled emotion, with Anastasia roving the stage in a union flag skirt and a cape like Dungeon Master Halliwell. At times, it’s in-your-face confidence (‘Make Me King’); at others, it’s a poppier melancholy (‘OK’). During the latter, the stage was lit only by the audience’s phone torches, the caped singer offering herself as an effigy to heartbreak. It was an emphatic, tortured performance, although levity was soon brought by the band’s most-streamed song, the swinging ‘Cigarettes and Feelings’.
While the co-headline model was most likely necessitated by the financial difficulties facing all touring bands in the modern age, as fans, aren’t we lucky to catch so much music in one night?