After the untimely demise of American Noiseniks Sprain in late 2023, a new band spearheaded by their frontman Alex Kent emerged from the remnants: Shearling. After a year and a half of experimenting in private and presenting material sporadically in LA, they released their debut endeavour ‘Motherfucker, I Am Both: “Amen” and “Hallelujah”’ earlier this year. That release led inevitably to the five-piece unleashing their abrasive and experimental sound onto Europe – including two nights at the Windmill, supported by a four-band bill as uncompromising as Shearling themselves.
The first act was Poland’s Allarme, a four-piece of guitar, bass, drums and saxophone. Their set was a fitting introduction for what was to come: intense, uncompromising noise. Screamed passages in English and Polish cut through relentless foundations – pounding toms, in-your-face basslines, chaotic sax and spirited guitar work.
Next came Windmill stalwarts paper hats, whose brash take on math rock earned them a place on this bill – and rightly so. Since the release of their debut single D’Artagnan earlier this year, the group have been on an upward trajectory, playing more shows, garnering more attention, and selling more merch (seriously hard to go to the George or the Windmill without seeing one of their shirts).
Where many bands remain static on stage, paper hats throw themselves into the music. Bassist Gabe and guitarists Sam and Clem dart about as frantically as their jagged riffs suggest, while drummer Conn ties the chaos together with precise yet charged rhythms. The result was the most energetic set of the night, recalling early-00s Tera Melos in both sound and movement. Unsurprisingly, the highlight was D’Artagnan – moshing broke out instantly; the PA toppled onto the stage; bodies were shoved in every direction. Total chaos.
Bristol’s HAAL followed with something very different. Their unique set-up featured two synths – one played constantly by Ethan Jones – while Alfie Hay and Joe Collins shifted between guitar and bass to a backing of drumming served by Joe Frost. Every decision felt weighted, at times evoking Neurosis in its sheer heaviness. Yet there was also an echo of Slint, with spoken-word fragments and experimental guitar play woven into the texture. The result, though slightly uncouth, was a brooding, atmospheric – a dark prelude to Shearling’s finale.
The headliners took the stage just before 11pm. After a quick line check, they launched into new composition Farm Sounds. More direct and angular than previous single Motherfucker, it was pure brutality. Ten minutes in, the entire pub was plunged into darkness as the power failed. There was outrage from from Kent and the crowd, flickering lights teased everyone, and when power returned the band tore straight into Motherfucker.
From there they did not stop for nearly 50 minutes. It was one of the most co-ordinated bands we’ve seen with Alex throwing hand movements to fellow band movements to when start and stop, his presence completely domineering. Motherfucker manages to put itself into so many different parts, each one contrasting and enhancing the last.
The sound was punishing. Dissonance and atonality, staples for Kent & co, dominated this form of music that you feel only these boys can pull off. Guitars cut like blades, while Andrew Chanover’s drumming pummelled without pause, seemingly inexhaustible.
And then came the final passage. After 40 minutes of unrelenting extremity, we enter a sudden catharsis: Alex’s voice left bare, accompanied only by Elizabeth A. Carver pressing one piano key at a time. The minimalism was stark, his lyrics cutting through with finality. The minimal passage brought Motherfucker to its stark conclusion, Alex’s story of love lost ending with his haunting plea: “Please don’t bury me in Idaho.”
Words: Noelle Radewicz Photos: @myksfilm