With explosive performances and unapologetic intensity, Skunk Anansie proved once again why they’re one of the UK’s most electrifying live acts. Please welcome…
SKUNK ANANSIE
From the moment the lights drop, it’s clear this isn’t some dusty throwback set. The room is packed wall to wall with punters who know the deep cuts. Rock City is brimming not with nostalgia junkies chasing old memories, but with diehards and new blood alike.
Let’s talk about the support act So Good, a glorious middle finger to anyone expecting a safe warm-up act. They’re messy, loud, full of attitude, and while the sound is often more chaos than clarity, that barely matters. Backing vocals twist and grind like it’s their last night on Earth, and it’s clear this isn’t just punk-pop: this is pop trying to set itself on fire.
Then Skunk Anansie hit the stage and take that inferno-spitting energy to a whole other level. Skin enters like a queen from another realm, draped in a black, billowing cape and blanketed with a presence commanding your attention. There’s no coyness, no easing in with tonight’s show. They go straight for the jugular with This Means War, ripping through genres and expectations like paper. Riffs grind and pulse; rhythms are tribal. Skin is a force of nature – part banshee, part preacher, part punk-rock oracle. We are at her mercy.
Vocally, she does things most singers wouldn’t even try. Her range stretches from whispers that feel like secrets to full-blown howls. Every note is delivered with intent; every line with venom or vulnerability. She’s constantly shifting, never predictable.
“Oh, you mother f**kers! We love this venue!”
There’s a visceral joy in how tight the band still is. Ace’s guitar isn’t showy, but it’s authoritarian with pure grit and muscle; Cass plays like a man reborn, each bassline a heartbeat pounding through the venue. They’re joined by powerhouse drummer Mark Richardson, locking the whole thing down like it’s the end of the world.
Skin leaps into the crowd during I Can Dream, swallowed by bodies, surfacing like a prophet. She connects, physically and emotionally, not just with the front row but with everyone. You believe her when she says this crowd is special. There’s sweat, tears, and sincerity in every word.
“Skunk Anansie believes we are all equal,” Skin is viscerally charged in her testament to life. “To be f**king equal is not a political statement, it’s a basic statement on human empathy. We shouldn’t have to defend our rights against those who believe some don’t deserve to live because what the f**k?!”
Yes It’s F**king Political feels sharper than ever – a jagged response to every watered-down, fence-sitting pop star afraid to say something that matters – and it’s a reminder that music should be angry sometimes. That rage has value. Weak arrives early and instead of saving it for a safe encore, they let the crowd own it. Thousands sing it back like a hymn. Skin barely needs to open her mouth. It’s a rare thing to have a hit that hasn’t faded, only deepened.
“You’re all so sweet and so kind in your cheers, thank you very much!”
A cocktail of reggae, rock, and righteous fury that is Little Baby Swastikkka further proves their point that protest music can still be exhilarating. It’s a rebellion wrapped in rhythm, and whilst most bands would be easing into familiar territory, Skunk Anansie pull a bold move: two unreleased songs drop during the encore. It’s a gamble, but the audience takes it in stride. They trust the band, and that trust pays off – the new material sounds like evolution, not reinvention. Still raw, still real, but with fresh claws.
Of course, the finale comes with fire: Hedonism is spine-tingling, a mass catharsis that fills every inch of the room. A surprise burst of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love follows, sweaty and swaggering, yet it’s the feral, floor-shaking chaos of Skank Heads (Get Off Me) that truly brings the house down. Skin held aloft by the crowd, lit up by strobes and euphoria, is a tangible motif that tonight isn’t about age, era, or legacy. It’s about a band who never stopped moving forward, who still feel urgent, vital, alive.
Skunk Anansie don’t just survive, they roar. Their audience? Still listening. Still loving. Still ready for war.
SKUNK ANANSIE PERFORMED WEDNESDAY 3RD APRIL
WORDS: TALIA ROBINSON
ROCK CITY NOTTINGHAM
We’re not only Nottingham’s favourite venue and nightclub – we’re the UK’s best live venue with a rich history of performers that have played here. A crowd that knew every word and we’ve got Skunk Anansie to thank!
Also while you’re at it, why not check out our gig guide and see if any other of your favourite artists like Skunk Anansie are playing soon! We also have our club nights on a Thursday (Tuned), Friday (Get Lucky) and Saturday (Rebel Rebel) so check those out too!
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