The best bands are the ones that are unique, have a sound that is instantly recognisable, unmistakably them and hold a very special place in your mind and music collection from the first time you see and hear them. For me Karnivool are one such band. They have a signature sound that captures emotion alongside progressive technicality, a tender voice filled with power, and songs that have every hook you could wish for. The chance to catch them tour the UK for the first time in a few years was impossible to resist.

Intervals are the only support on this tour, but that doesn’t mean the crowd are in any way getting short-changed. The set unfolds as a kind of hyper‑modern yacht‑rock take on progressive instrumental metal. It feels like the spiritual successor to the ‘Magnum P.I.’ theme if it had been rebuilt for a generation raised on djent, trip‑hop, and drum‑and‑bass. Aaron Marshall stands centre‑stage, the calm eye of a tech-tastic storm, and from the first note it’s clear he’s a maestro of the guitar. Every phrase feels purposefully engineered, every groove meticulously calculated, yet the whole thing moves with the breezy swagger of someone who knows exactly how far and hard they can go without losing control. The drums snap with that breakbeat elasticity, the bass locks into a deep, rolling pulse, and over the top Marshall and his fellow guitarist pour out technicality like a molten fondant dessert - finger‑tapped runs, fretboard‑skimming arpeggios, and those delicious wide‑open chords

What is striking is how playful it all feels. It’s intricate and absolutely drenched in musicianship, but it never collapses into self‑indulgence. Marshall knows when to step back, when to let the rhythm section breathe, when to let a groove carry the room rather than forcing another flurry of notes. It’s the mark of a composer who understands that songs matter more than the sum of their moving parts. Instrumental tech‑metal can so easily drift into a mush of background noise, but Intervals refuse to let attention wander. The set is inventive, surprising, and constantly shifting shape, each track unfolding like a puzzle that’s as fun to watch being solved as it is to hear completed. Marshall’s stage presence seals it - energetic, engaged, and clearly having a great time. He pulls the crowd along with him rather than performing at them. Intervals deliver a masterclass in how to make instrumental music feel alive, immediate, and joyously human, even when the technical bar is set somewhere high in the clouds.

Headliners Karnivool walk out to a hero’s welcome and rightly so. Despite being veterans of the scene now, this Perth collective still carry the aura of a band who reshape the ground they stand on, and tonight they move with the confidence of a group who know exactly how deep their influence runs. Frontman Ian Kenny is immediately hypnotic. He slips into that loose, wiggling sway of his body, voice cutting through the mix with that uncanny blend of power and fragility. It’s a tone that feels haunting without being ethereal, emotional without ever tipping into melodrama. Even on the last night of a long tour, he sounds pristine, every note delivered with a clarity that borders on unreal. Meanwhile, the guitar lines of Mark Hosking and Drew Goddard don’t sit on top of the songs but serve as the interweaving glue that binds them. The guitars themselves move like extensions of the men wielding them, weaving gnawing, serrated tones into vast, shimmering structures.

There’s a churning, chaotic beauty to it all, with flashes of Nine Inch Nails‑like vibrancy threaded through progressive arcs that somehow remain catchy, accessible, and utterly dynamic. When the backlighting kicks into overdrive during the more frantic sections, it’s simple but devastatingly effective, strobing in time with the band’s controlled chaos. Jon Stockman’s bass is a force of nature, and for ‘Simple Boy’ in particular it hits hard with the opening low‑end rumble so huge it feels like it’s pulsing our internal organs. On drums Steve Judd delivers a masterclass in syncopated extravagance. He’s playing and living every hit, every accent and off‑kilter hit landing with purpose. Together, the rhythm section creates a foundation that’s tight, muscular, and constantly in motion. What stands out most is how intentional everything feels. Karnivool’s songs are grandiose by design - sweeping, towering constructions that make you feel part of something vast, but they never lose sight of the songwriting. Every shift, every swell, every sudden moment of restraint serves the emotional arc rather than the technical showcase. Nothing is over‑processed or artificially inflated. It’s real musical gear, real musicians, and real chemistry, and it shows in every second - seamless transitions, no wasted moments, no dip in intensity. Stunning is the only word for a band like this.