The Moonlandingz and friendz at Belgrave Music Hall, Leeds: A soirée into musical exploration
I’m standing in the crowded Belgrave Music Hall, people are hovering around the bar, stretching over low sofas and lightly tapping their feet to the DJ’s rhythms. I’m trying to take a clear photo of the set times but people in vintage hats and funky shoes keep on walking in front of my camera. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a gig in Leeds, it only feels right that my re-entry is back to see The Moonlandingz and friendz.
I’m fairly familiar with the fictional space-age band, although saying that, every live show seems to offer a different iteration of their image - mellow, demented, argumentative, sentimental - I’ve had the privilege of being on the receiving end of each one. So, do we ever really know who The Moonlandingz are? I’m getting ahead of myself. Prior to The Moonlandingz appearance I had an array of completely unfamiliar acts to feast on.
Tiss Vampiric and Ivy Alice by 1153photography
I’m sitting in a dark corner of the live room as Tiss Vampiric begins making noise. It only takes a few seconds of frontman Tiss’s rigorous stomping and body contortions for me to jump out of my seat and sprint towards the light. Now I’m asking myself, who is this Scooby-Doo bunch? Tiss is in a white suit and some big fuck-off sunglasses while drummer Ivy Alice is in a 1960s sailor number. It’s awfully pleasing to the eye. However, the sound coming from these cats is even better. Impassioned, Jim Morrison-esque vocals peppered with fits of harmonica is at the forefront. Meanwhile, a classic rock n’ roll chug and thumping drums hit me in the soul. As I’m watching on, I can’t shake this feeling that I might have found the band I’ve been looking for my whole life. They’re just that good. The words “dark cabaret” crop up a lot in the description of Tiss Vampiric. They certainly have the theatrics. It's a combination of absurd drama and musical euphoria. I’m finding it very hard to tear my eyes away from the Iggy Pop reminiscent splendour. It all comes to a head when they play a dirty little rendition of Minnie The Moocher, and oh lord I feel like I’m in a questionable dive in New Orleans. Tiss Vampiric - what a treat.
baby berserk by 1153photography
Next on the bill is Amsterdam’s own Baby Berserk. It’s another sound that feels as though it’s been missing from my life. At this point, the room has begun to fill out and Baby Berserk saunter on stage in a blur of red sparkle. I don’t quite know what to expect but as soon as they start playing it all makes sense. It’s a fabulous synth-focused fashion explosion. In fact, in such a short space of time I feel as though I’ve been fazed into a David Lynch dream sequence. Maybe I should check if Laura Palmer is somewhere hiding behind a red curtain? Very swiftly into the set, frontwoman Lieselot Elzinga and her blonde beehive hop off the stage and take off into the crowd. If there’s anyone that can get a room moving it’s her. Taking to screaming in people’s faces and jumping about, it feels blasphemous to not replicate that energy even while getting tangled in her trail of wires.
Baby Berserk balances contemporary club pulse with artful punk madness that culminates into this crazed electronic frenzy appearing in front of me. There’s a whiff of danger in the air and it’s driving me to dance. There’s really something appealing about a European accent over some synths, maybe if everyone in the scene did that instead of a poorly executed working-class attempt we could get somewhere. During the set, we get a taste of their upcoming single Mind Explodes, and what they’re putting out deserves to be picked up. It’s messy yet flawless, perfect for a Friday night in a humid room.
vanity far by 1153photography
We’re creeping closer to the grand act. I’m vaguely lost trying to navigate the many passages throughout Belgrave and by the time I'm back in front of the stage there is an extravagant display just starting. Vanity Fairy - a real disco darling - is floating across the stage in a shimmery gown. Her falsetto singing is in stark contrast to most vocal performances I encounter, which often revolves around screaming to ear-ringing levels. It’s a real exotic show, cut up with comedic interjects about BBC6 Music and the economic downfall of professional musicianship. Looking at her, I can’t help but recall an exhibition I saw at the V&A a couple years back, fittingly titled “DIVA”, grand displays of show costumes and fashion spanning from old Hollywood to the golden days of disco culture. Vanity Fairy’s shtick would not be out of place. It’s a set soaked in glitz and glamour.
The Moonlandingz by 1153photography
Ah yes, we’ve made it. The Moonlandingz, love child of Fat White Family founder Lias Saoudi and synth-extraordinaire Adrian Flanagan from Eccentronic Research Council. It started off as a semi-fictional project but is now very real and pulsing with vitality right in front of my eyes. Lias is in his usual look, wrapped tightly in clingfilm, while Jeanie Crystal sports a “Yoko was the best Beatle” tshirt. They crack on with modern classics such as The Insects Have Been Shat On and Give Me More. Both from their 2025 album No Rocket Required which possesses a revitalised and complex sound compared to previous work. Speaking of, Black Hanz from Interplanetary Class Classics is a jangly tone switch and is charmingly rough round the edges and the swelling paranoia of I.D.S really does make you question your sanity. The band’s music is incomplete without their infamous live performance, I’ve been witness to audience members sucking melted chocolate off Lias’s fingers before. Shame is a feeling not found in the modern world, and it makes for great gigs.
Jeanie Crystal is possessed by the ghost of rock n’ roll, throwing herself about while giving a passionate tambourine show. After a few quips about recent election results Lias leaves the stage and lets the spotlight land on Adrian. One of my favourite parts of the whole Moonlandingz ordeal is when the tender melody of It’s Where I’m From begins crooning out the speakers. Originally sung by Iggy Pop on the record, the ever mysterious Adrian sings a damn good ballad. He, of course, gets into the crowd and it’s truly a community effort. Incredibly bonding for a collection of strangers.
Now, I need you to picture this. I’m now running through the streets of Leeds to catch a train back home. A rather violent crash-landing back into reality after a soiree into musical exploration. Each minute, interaction, act and song satisfied my craving for a good show. Although, my biggest take away from my night at the Belgrave? It’s always happy days with The Moonlandingz.