Rebellion feels cold in temperature but hot with anticipation tonight with three bands all wired with intent, all pushing their own flavour of atmospheric progressive metal. Headlined by the phenomenal MØL, what links them all is precision - three drummers playing like they’re chiselling their names into stone, three vocalists pulling emotion from both ends of the human register, and three sets that refuse to sit still. It’s a night where groove, noise and blackgaze all collide under the same low ceiling, each band out its own pocket of chaos.

Cold Night For Alligators open with a confidence that belies the early start time. The Copenhagen five-piece don’t posture, they simply lock in and let the music do the talking. Their sound lands somewhere between glossy, progressive sheen and a more sinewy metalcore backbone. The guitars snap in tight staccato bursts, the drums hit with clinical weight, and then almost without warning the songs bloom into those velvety, widescreen pop choruses that feel engineered to lift the room.

Frontman Hjalte Bertelsen is the anchor of the band and his voice is immaculate tonight, switching from harsh to clean with a fluidity that feels almost unnatural. The backing track is used with restraint and purpose, filling out the layered vocals, brass and synth without ever overwhelming the live performance. The new material slots in seamlessly, already sounding like the band has been touring it for years. There’s a groovy undercurrent running through the heavier moments, and a Voyager-meets-VOLA buoyancy that keeps everything moving forward. It’s a set that feels like a statement for their new era - polished, heavy, and quietly ambitious.

Where Cold Night For Alligators glide, main support TAYNE chaotically grind. The London trio step into a haze of pedals and cables, and from the first pulse it’s clear they’re here to tip the room’s current vibe. Their industrial noise, pop hybrid is a jagged collage of Stabbing Westward’s melancholy, KMFDM’s mechanical swagger, Ministry’s jagged toothed stomp, all fed through a Nine Inch Nails-esque sense of tension.

The rhythms don’t shimmer they lurch and snarl, while the melodies don’t soothe they nag and haunt. Matthew Sutton’s vocals drift in like apparitions, gentle cleans, before turning into rasping processed harsh vocals spat back out. The crowd presents in industrial sway, before between early songs the band rally the room with their now signature cry - “Let’s get honkin!” It shouldn’t fit, but it absolutely does. The room explodes, gleefully, as if participating in some unhinged ritual. TAYNE’s set is chaotic, abrasive, and weirdly euphoric, a reminder that noise can be both confrontational and communal.

Then the lights shift to pink and turquoise, and headliners MØL emerge like celestial silhouettes. The Danish blackgaze outfit have always thrived on contrast, but tonight they feel especially sharpened. Kim Song Sternkopf is a spectacle unto himself -part frontman, part deranged goblin, part conductor. He sets about hurling his body and voice into the void with a physicality that borders on the ecstatic. His screams tear through the mix with feral clarity, but when he switches to cleans they’re startlingly pure, almost fragile. The guitars weave those signature overdriven passages, with less distortion and more texture, creating a shimmering wall that feels alive, shifting, breathing.

At times the melodies take on an almost highland-piper quality, especially during ‘Young’ where the lines spiral upward in mournful, triumphant arcs. The rhythm section is unshakeable, grounding the dreamlike haze with absolute precision. ‘Crush’ arrives like a statement piece - blackgaze fury, punk, flecked urgency, and sudden bursts of beauty that hot hard at every turn. It’s Biffy Clyro meets Deafheaven by way of Celeste and Gaerea, but ultimately it’s just MØL - singular, emotional, and utterly consuming. One moment the room is suspended in dreamlike glow, the next it’s being pummelled into the floor. It’s primal and fantastic – long live MØL.