Live Review: The Sick Man of Europe - Club Cheek, London 06/11/2025
The Sick Man of Europe light up one of London’s most exciting new venues, Club Cheek – proving that they’re the next best thing since Joy Division.
On the back of the self-titled record; The Sick Man of Europe bring plenty of well-polished material to Club Cheek and it’s clear to see that they have benefited from months on the road; including stops at tastemaker festivals Left of the Dial and Swn in Cardiff. This is a return to London where they have played at venues like the George Tavern and Moth Club supporting Dr. Sure’s Unusual Practice; but now elevated to headline status, they look the part – this is one of the most exciting, technically gifted bands in an ages. What’s more – the fact that this is taking place at Club Cheek confirms that even in an age where London’s nightlife is constantly threatened with closures; there is still room for vibrant new scenes. They’re so new they don’t even have a cloakroom yet – but the magic is there – and I will almost certainly be back.
Tonight has the benefit of being a full set so you get a run through of the catchier songs on the album; profane not profound is a belter that plunges frontman into the pit with the intent to divide and get it going: it’s an older crowd; so moshing isn’t quite on the cards today despite valiant efforts, but the audience is completely engrossed in the vibe and the darkly lit atmosphere drowns out the trains that rumble overhead of the venue: 200-300 capacity gigs always have a special place in my heart and Club Cheek is sure to be a regular appointment for the more techno orientated gigs. Here is a dance of post punk and krautrock, pushing the boundaries with a bunch of a groove-y, authentic vision and never-ending sense of dread. When the album dropped, I called it a state of the nation record and that still holds true – in every sense of the word. Nothing is more relevant.
The show itself feels like a battle between the artificial age and regaining that of your humanity, leaning on influences from Suicide and Bauhaus in craft. The frayed nerves of the music and the singer whose name remains nameless echoes that of Ian Curtis in stature; confidence and calm – like Moth Club; he exits his set by walking through the door and just leaving the stage as ice-cool as when he left it, leaving the crowd left behind in his wake. It’s a statement – the robot dance moves feel all-conquering like his heart being ripped out and replaced by an artificial intelligence; never afraid to move aimlessly through the crowd and get them engaged – rare do you see an artist so confident at interacting with his fans who are engaged at all the right moments.
It's going to be a special night from the very off – Leeds-based band Turnspit are upbeat and electronical; a vibes band that capture the essence of a berlin nightclub during the peak of the cold war; one of the bands tipped in far Far Out Magazine’s 10 most exciting artists to hail from Leeds by Gladboy; sister group of Bug Teeth. Their hooks are energetic, and the music pretty much encourages you to get immersed in their genre-bending live performances that long outstayed their welcome; just as much as I was assured Sick Man of Europe would be a regular feature following Dr Sure – they look set to follow in that wake; also complimented by Adult DVD. That’s high praise. Their genre-blending skills can make an instant impression on the audience; who are caught up in their rapture.
Back at main now; and we’re embracing the thrills of Sick Man of Europe as though we’re encountering the first second or third gig by Ian Curtis. The growing magic of the band pulls you into the audience and the way tracks like Obsolete builds and builds; getting the audience to question consistently their place in the world – “left behind again, retire me, make me obsolete… time is corrosion, and there’s nothing left to see” – transfers the energy into the main set and the deployment of that, Sanguine, and Profane not Profound really keep the energy high and build momentum in the audience. The three best tracks of the album all work; and Sanguine’s audacious near ten minute runtime is felt across the board – few artists would be brave enough to drop that on their debut album let alone have the confidence to perform it life, but under the influence of The Sick Man, it is seamless.
For a thematically heavy album that tackles the overwhelming grind of the 9-5 wage lifestyle and the repetitive nature of the Monday-Friday experience, it’s a joy to witness it live. It feels relevant – the audience being pushed out into a robotic trance as much as The Sick Man himself, nameless, but then that’s maybe the point – “a shaking blob, an awkward mess, a formal men in an awkward dress,” Slow Down, Friend captures the anxiety that comes with living in an information age and finding your place in a world that has left you behind. It’s vital – such a confidently assured record that it’s hard not to be torn away from. Transactional gets the vibe across on a more optimistic note and reminds the audience that against all hope; “I’m alive”, despite all the new tools for us to use being overwhelming and confusing – “I shake, I shit, I feel it all,” encouraging audiences to “kick the guts, fuck it up, grow it up, throw it up,” and embrace the chaos.
There is no encore, it is clear that there needs to be a deeper track record for more variety; but the set is so easily danceable and likeable, it’s hard not to fall in love with from the word off. Assuredly confident and very much alive – The Sick Man of Europe are as choreographed live as they are on their record; sounding very much identical. It’s rare you see a band this confident and assured from the off – and having seen them four times live now; they’re a rare treat – one of those bands that just feels endlessly rewatchable. I’ll be at their next gig and you should be too.
Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies
