Live Review: The New Eves at Barrowland Ballroom, Glasgow

Barrowland Ballroom is one of those venues that carries its own mythology. With its neon sign glowing outside and sound that seems to bounce back sweeter and louder, it has hosted generations of raucous nights. But when The New Eves stepped out as support for Black Country, New Road, the atmosphere shifted. The Brighton four-piece quietly took their places, seamlessly swapping instruments like it was second nature, and pulled Glasgow into their own strange little world.

Their set leaned on intensity and atmosphere rather than volume, with a ritualistic focus that asked the room to lean in instead of leap up. The music rose and fell in waves, unfolding patiently but with a weight that was hard to ignore.

Pinning The New Eves to a single genre feels beside the point. Bits of folk, punk and old-school garage surfaced across the set, but what mattered more was the mood they created together, music that lodged itself in your chest as much as in your ears.

Layered harmonies and sudden swells of strings gave the performance its shape, a slow, steady pull into a world that was theirs alone. Cloaked in deep red and orange light, the group appeared half-summoned from a firelit myth, the visuals amplifying the intensity of their sound.

Supporting Black Country, New Road was a fitting pairing. Both bands thrive on unusual instrumentation, shared voices and songs that resist straightforward structures. Where BC,NR sprawled into orchestral catharsis, The New Eves provided a prologue – smaller in scale but no less absorbing.

The New Eves left Glasgow with a performance that felt both consuming and elusive. What lingered was less a memory of individual songs than the sense of a band intent on building their own universe – and inviting us inside.