Private Regcords – it’s not a typo – is the revered, indispensable cornerstone of the Leeds music scene. A young, independent record label who, as part of Independent Venue Week, put on the third and finest edition of Regtown, featuring 43 of the scene’s finest artists, no clashes, and a clear community focus, with stalls from local artists, labels and zines. Unreservedly DIY, and with an offbeat, grassroots ethos, the label saw the final day of January go out in style with the sold-out Saturday edition of Regtown.
Boasting two days of some of the best bands in the city and surrounding areas, the festival comes from one of the scene’s most beloved faces: James Vardy, who curated a stacked line-up that offered far more than its £15 ticket price suggested. Not a single act on our day hailed from London – a refreshing break from the capital’s endless churn of post-punk/prog-rock/post-something bands. Instead, Private Regcords booked out the entirety of Hyde Park Book Club, the label’s spiritual home, to celebrate local talent in abundance.
The venue celebrates its tenth anniversary this year, having opened in a former disused petrol station in 2016. Split across two floors, the bohemian space is a mecca for local writers, artists and musicians – it’s hard to imagine the Leeds music scene without it. Upstairs sits the aptly named Snug, a 45-capacity room dressed in candles and ceiling-hung drapes, while downstairs is the 150-cap mirrorball-adorned Basement, which hosted the day’s heavier hitters.
Our day opened with Sheffield student four-piece Junk at the Snug, whose tranquil, melodic shoegaze belied their self-depricating name and eased us nicely into the day. It was only 3pm and still rather chilly, but the room quickly warmed as it filled with cool cats of the Leeds scene. Intimate and unpretentious, Junk impressed throughout, with twin guitars blurring into one another while quivering vibrato on the lead vocals lent the set a vulnerability elevated by spacious, open harmonies. BBC 6 Music favourite ‘Pig’ saw lead singer Evelyn and guitarist Leo trade harmonised lines over surging shoegaze instrumentals, setting a quietly confident tone for the day ahead.
A quick walk downstairs brought us to a much noisier band, Cob, a cult favourite in Manchester’s blossoming underground scene, who impressed despite a late frontman, leaving the rest of the band jamming awkwardly while scanning the crowd. Even without a singer they were immediately intriguing: a nerdy-looking member furiously working an electric violin, while another sat behind a computer screen, her almost bored expression contrasting with the pulsing 808s she controlled. Once the frontman arrived, the five-piece’s frenetic sound lived up to their striking look, blending post-hardcore and punk with plenty of confidence. Intense rhythms and distorted guitars mixed and blurred genres beautifully, producing a hybrid that felt both distinctive and compelling.
For one of the evening’s most anticipated sets, we went back upstairs to the Snug for Exeter four-piece Pushbike, part of the forming four of Manchester’s No Band Is An Island collective. Their songs flowed in a way that only very accomplished musicians on the same wavelength can achieve, and the songwriting was equally strong. Debut single ‘Bet You Know’ stood out as nothing less than the undiluted sound of youth, energy and the excitement of being in a band. Noisy, hooky, good-natured guitar pop followed, with anthemic choruses and a power-pop feel recalling Teenage Fanclub and Guided by Voices. One to watch this year for sure.
In the Basement, Nottingham four-piece Drury Hill were another standout, with their softer rock, post-folk-influenced sound impressing the growing crowd. Transitioning between softly lilting, storytelling tracks and jangly, spirited choruses, their set captured their fittingly self-described “soft rockin’, slacker poppin’” voice. The vocals were soft, the guitars biting, and their musical talent immaculate. What stood out was how in touch they are with each other musically, with their tightness as a band shining through. It pays off completely: no one part overpowers another, and together they create one beautiful, unified sound.
Later into the night, Holly Head, currently on tour with Westside Cowboy and fresh off the release of new single ‘No Country Is an Island’, were the first to draw a particularly lively crowd. Exhilarating and restless, it quickly became clear why Westside Cowboy chose them as support; animated from the off, the band barely stayed still, spinning across the stage and locking into one another’s movement as much as their sound. Their set featured uncompromising, reverb-soaked guitar riffs and pounding percussion that complemented the hard-hitting political subject matter of much of their material. Oscar’s drumming was a highlight, smashing around the kit with clear passion, his interest in jungle, Latin and Afrobeat rhythms punctuating the set.
One of the biggest draws arrived soon after with Bug Teeth, the fast-rising experimental dream-pop five-piece whose debut album landed last November. Initially the moniker for front-person PJ’s solo work, their set entirely lacked the messiness that might be expected when turning a solo venture into a group project. Immersive, emotion-excavating soundscapes of grief and growth unfolded between ’90s dream-pop, psychedelia and ambient electronica. Front-person PJ’s vocals floated above twinkling keys, with standout ‘Thin Circle’ weaving H.G. Wells’ words into IDM-style breakbeats that Björk would admire. Quiet passages were met with near-total silence from the crowd – a testament to the band’s immersive pull.
As midnight struck, James Vardy and the Private Records team took to the stage to offer thanks – and to note the effort required to persuade Leeds City Council to grant a temporary 2am curfew extension. Normal Village followed, marking something of a tonal shift from Bug Teeth. Years spent honing their sound on Leeds’ DIY circuit showed: nearly everyone sang every word to every song. The guitarist wore a GoPro-wrapped head as the rowdiest crowd of the day erupted. Any inch of the room that wasn’t already occupied by bodies was filled with loud, harsh, distorted guitar tones and the lead singer’s aggressive vocals, matched only by his drumming. The band delivered the sharp math-rock rhythms and crunchy, unpredictable chord progressions they are known for. Any other festival, this would absolutely have been the main event and closing set – but not at Regtown. There was more to come.
That came in the form of Bathing Suits who closed the night with a 1am set, fresh from a six-hour drive from Edinburgh where they were playing earlier. The electro-punk outfit have been hurting the eardrums of Leeds gig-goers for years now, but since the release of their ‘I Can Be A Freak’ single, they have attracted nationwide attention, becoming a mainstay at Brixton’s Windmill and selling out shows across the country. Live, their experimental edge is pure adrenaline. Abrasive yet magnetic, the band justified their headline slot with ease, and by the time the set finally ground to a halt, the room felt spent – ears ringing and bodies exhausted. Hopefully hangovers weren’t too bad the following day, which saw another stacked bill featuring the likes of Little Grandad and Private Records’ very own Kiosk and Rhiannon Hope.
All in all, Regtown was a whistle-stop tour of an independent label putting in serious graft: good artists, good people, and a community worth paying attention to. It’s people like these who are keeping the scene together, creating valuable opportunities for musicians and creatives, not for profit but purely for the love of the game. Regtown 2027 can’t come soon enough.
Words: Donovan Livesey Photos: Tom White