The big review: 2000trees 2026

There are a lot of places to get your live thrills this weekend. Up in Manchester, Bring Me The Horizon are celebrating 20 years of Count Your Blessings. At Knebworth, Iron Maiden are marking five decades as a band at EddFest. Oh, and down in London, a little outfit called My Chemical Romance are playing three nights at Wembley Stadium.

Really, though, there’s no place hotter than Upcote Farm and 2000trees, as a tractor-load of the finest in punk, rock, metal and hardcore arrive from around the UK and across the world.

Even unexpectedly losing main-stage headliner Alkaline Trio days before the fest doesn't derail the fun, with Don Broco announced within hours. Elsewhere they’ve got proven summer favourites Funeral For A Friend bumping shoulders with the legendary likes of Glassjaw and The Bronx, plus some of the best new bands around.

So grab your sunscreen and a flagon of scrumpy as we head down to the woods again for the all-star run-down of 2000trees 2026...

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Most folk are still making the long, hot walk up the hill from the car park to the campsite when Split Dogs plug in just after lunchtime on the festival’s first day. But those seeking shade under the branches and amongst the wood chippings of Trees’ trademark Forest Sessions stage are in for a 100mph treat. Serving up short, sharp blasts of old-school punk like All In and Punch Drunk, the fiery Bristol crew get the pulse bumping like an energy drink sprinkled with amphetamines. Special mention to snarling, high-kicking singer Harry Atkins who is sufficiently off-the-leash to make a hot Wednesday afternoon feel like an unhinged Saturday night. (SL)

The Word tent started life as a space for spoken word, comedy and kids’ entertainment, but it’s testament to the festival’s growth that it feels more like a deafening fight club for large part of Wednesday. With speaker stacks positioned beneath the ears of most of the crowd, they’re still working out a tricky sound as mathy Leeds collective Love Rarely step on. It’s to the band’s immense credit that the widdly riffs and deep emotions of songs like Haunted and Entropy still connect quite as deeply as they do. There are shades of this festival’s reunited cult heroes Arcane Roots at play, but also touches of the nerdy sexiness of Polyphia and a swagger all their own. (SL)

Temperatures are spiking even in the shade when Karen Dió steps on, but there’s no-one better to harness that kind of solar energy into a fizzing set. Having swapped her hometown of Santos in Brazil for Hastings, she soaks up the sun like Kal-El, then spits it back out in the riot grrrl attitude and sensual energy of a pulsing cover of Chappell Roan’s Casual and the excellent I Hope You Know It’s Not Me. In barnstorming closer Sick Ride she borrows and arguably upstages the larger-than-life swagger of husband and Dinosaur Pile-Up frontman Matt Bigland to outstanding effect. Massive. (SL)

"2000trees? They should call it 2000 fuckin' degrees!" Bruise Control frontman Jim Taylor has already pulled his shirt off before the Manchester punks arrive for their demolition of The Word stage. “I’ve already had to have a jobby with the toilet door open. It's fuckin ridiculous. But I'd rather have this than it be fuckin' raining so I should stop my whining." With rough-hewn charisma levels through the roof and an incredible ‘Born t’Lose’ tattoo across his beer belly, Jim and the gang could be amongst the most entertaining acts on offer without even striking a note. But somehow songs like the defiant No More and incendiary Taxman are even better. Mint. (SL)

If things here feel like a bit of a sweatbox before Soapbox arrive, it’s more like an oven by the height of the fast-rising Scots’ set. Sounding like a Glaswegian version of IDLES or SOFT PLAY, they give lots of politicised, shouty semi-spoken-word bits, but with a more unhinged hard edge than those southern softies. Fascist Bob feels like the sound of chucking pint glasses in the pub. Meter Made is pure unfiltered working-class rage. Mad Jungle Beat does pretty much what it says on the tin. 2000trees responds in kind, with wave after wave of crowdsurfers. “Yous are the best venue in the UK because yous do my job for me,” grins singer Tom Rowan as the shout-along takes over. Expect to see these angry young men back here, on Trees’ main stage, hopefully very soon. (SL)

“Are these guys a bit like Hollywood Undead?” asks one uninitiated punter as a big crowd heads towards the woods for BLACKGOLD. Er, not quite. Although there are similarities, with beefy, rocked-up hip hop and gold face-masks that look a bit like the ones Charlie Scene and the lads used to wear back in the day, there are far bigger riffs and better rhymes from the mysterious London crew this evening. The cover of Cypress Hill’s I Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That is an obvious highlight, but there’s more rage, fire and darkness in their own djent-inflected number Boogeyman. Solid gold. (SL)

There’s already been a lot of blunt force at 2000trees 2026, but VENUS GRRRLS change things up a bit, injecting a slinkiness that raises goosebumps even with the sweat pouring off this audience’s skin. There’s dark magick in Bloodsick, Hex and Eighteen Crows, that somehow intensifies out in this rural setting, and absolutely everyone in The Word tent is deep under their spell. Afterwards, the band thank the festival “for bringing these witches out of our cave and into the sun.” But when the incantation sounds like this, it is truly a pleasure to be cursed. (SL)

Playing the first of their two sets this weekend, The Dirty Nil opt to get the party started right with a collection of covers of their favourite songs. In short, it is absolutely fucking brilliant. Racing out the gate with Metallica’s Hit The Lights, Cheap Trick’s Surrender and, eh, The Police’s Next To You, quirkiness, high energy and sheer beer-chucking joy combine for one of the highlights of the weekend. The Mistfits' Last Caress and AC/DC’s Let There Be Rock are raucously-received favourites, but it’s the climactic run-through of Thin Lizzy classic Cowboy Song that sends everyone off on an electric high. The boys are back in town, oh yes. (SL)

There’s an impressive sense of brooding intensity from Split Chain, even in the face of a crowd going loopy from free-flowing first-night beers and sunstroke. The deep, dark, grungy hardcore of who am I? and bored. tired. torn are an introspective far cry from party tunes, but so tight are the rising Bristol post-hardcore crew these days that it’s still hard not to be dragged under their hypnotic blanket of sound. And with the oppressive sun finally dropping in the sky, their dark textures are the perfect foil for seguing into the sweet relief of a long, cool night under a forest of stars. (SL)

Dublin's SPRINTS tap the accelerator again, bringing the party back to top speed with a potent cocktail of punk energy, emotional literacy and unyielding attitude. Sporting orange sunglasses, ginger hair and just a little bit of sunburn, vocalist Karla Chubb looks like someone who could struggle in this kind of heat, but she throws absolutely everything into one of the most remarkably affirmative performances of the whole festival. There’s a beguiling darkness in some of their best songs Heavy, Descartes and Cathedral, but today is proof that they’re just as effective when set fire to out in the light. (SL)

As with everyone on this first-night line-up, Lake Malice are 2000trees favourites who’ve been invited back for an encore performance due to the strength of their previous shows. But even held up against an ear-catching 2025 appearance, the Brighton-based due feel like a whole new band. Alice Guala and Blake Cornwall have known the formula for years, blending deep-set trauma, springy metal and sugar-rush hyperpop, but only in recent times has it fully clicked onstage, and tonight feels like exhilarating proof that their ceiling is sky-high. Mitsuko, Stop The Party and Bloodbath detonate in a dazzling display of colour and catharsis. 2000Trees duly dive in. (SL)

Another bunch of Canadians pulling double-duty this weekend, PUP don’t follow The Dirt Nil’s cue with any kind of cover-heavy Wednesday party set, but somehow crank the good times even higher with a full tenth anniversary run-through of 2016’s The Dream Is Over. Few bands could manage that with what’s a decade-old cult release. Fewer still with the woozy levels of pain and trauma coursing through If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You, I Will, Old Wounds and My Life Is Over And I Couldn’t Be Happier. But the artists otherwise known as Pathetic Use Of Potential aren’t just any band, and they somehow come close to matching the free-flowing levels of body-flinging exuberance and endorphin-spiking chaos that they did at Outbreak a couple of weeks ago. Even better, they push things further with an encore of 2013’s Reservoir and Hunger For Death from last year’s excellent fifth album Who Will Look After The Dogs? A howling good time. (SL)

Midway through their sweltering main stage set, Saint Agnes vocalist/guitarist Kitty A. Austen admits, “I don’t like to be perceived a lot of the time.” This moment of humility belies the guts and grit she displays as a performer, while her bandmates hyperactively thrash around behind her as if something otherworldly has lit up their bones. The driving, nocturnal industrial vibes of the music come to life beautifully, from the dystopian darkness of Good Boy to the goth club-ready Ghost, but closer The Beast is the most stunning by far. Left alone under a spotlight with a guitar, Kitty introduces a moment of deep vulnerability in a song about her grief journey: “You have to let it in and feel everything, and you have to let it transform you.” Sit up and pay attention – they’re a formidable live force. (EW)

Warming up for their support slots with Bring Me The Horizon up in Manchester later this weekend, Still In Love might find themselves in a slightly less aggro setting at 2000trees, but the cult UK hardcore heroes don’t take long dragging everyone down to the depths. Still not on the radar of fans less than submerged in the scene, the sizeable crowd is a shade sparser and less energetic than they deserve as Nick Worthington spills his guts and TIMEPEACE singer Robyn Challands drops by for a cameo. But with bangers as big as Pillar Of Strength in their arsenal, it’s hard not to still be blown away. (SL)

“My golden Californian skin is used to this kind of heat,” grins Matt Caughthran, wryly, to a field full of hardcore devotees and curious rubberneckers. “But for those with delicate English skin, it is a predicament.” Even after all these years, Mariachi El Bronx are a band worth braving the heat for, though. No longer a curious Charro-wearing side-project to one of the world’s greatest punk bands, they are now simply a fantastic festival-ready act in and of themselves. And as much as there’s little traditionally ‘rock’ about 48 Roses, Norteño Lights or Bandoleros, they are full of so much brassy heart and soul it’s hard not to clap your hands, stamp your feet and get swept along. (SL)

Right from the moment they bolt out the gate, Tigercub's riffs have enough power to fill the veins of anyone with listening with molten lava. Oozing an aura of cool with their sinewy riffing and all black outfits, they dance between slick and scuzzy with a flicker of hedonism. “I want you to raise your warm beers and salute to the Thursday of Trees,” says vocalist-guitarist Jamie Stephen Hall to introduce I Wanna Get Fucked Up. The turnout is thin, perhaps owing to temperatures that are probably more punishing than most bands’ breakdowns, but this doesn’t take any of the glint off their performance, an ideal way of revving excitement on the first full day of Trees. And anyway, there's a tiger watching, so fair dos. (EW)

“Are you having fun?”asks Bad Nerves frontman Bobby Nerves with a characteristic lack of modesty. “Are you having the most fun you've had all day?!” Not quite, but almost. A quintessential middle-of-the-afternoon-at-Trees band, the Essex garage rockers waste absolutely no time charging through with the high-tempo, spittle-flecked Baby Drummer, Don’t Stop and Electric 88. With hips shaking and legs pogoing across a big crowd, they go down a treat. Admittedly, they do still lack a true crossover mega-hit which could take them to stardom, but they’ve already got the requisite charm and work ethic, and in the poignancy of Can’t Be Mine and Dreaming, they’ve got songwriting that’s not far off. (SL)

“I don’t know what kind of festival you think this is, but today it's ‘all work, no play’,” announces Matt Caughthran, a man transformed. “We're The Bronx from Los Angeles. Let's fuck shit up.” If Mariachi El Bronx were something to stand back and soak in, their old alter-egos The Bronx are still very much a band to get involved with. The sound gets cut, fittingly, during False Alarm when an audience member climbs the middle pillar, but then decides against jumping off. After a telling off from Matt (not for climbing, for not jumping) another somehow manages to dive off the front pole running through the middle of the stage. It’s not the most chaotic this band have ever been, but a turbulently welcome reminder of their considerable firepower. And in the fist-swinging Knifeman, Six Days A Week and History’s Stranglers they still have some of the best punk songs of their generation. (SL)

Though it’s finally cooling down, there’s still a scorcher underway in the forest courtesy of Native James. Despite his genre-smashing approach, it’s his heavier side that really gets flexed today, powered by aggression and eye-watering gutturals. Between the curled-lip swagger of Do What You Want and the riotous GTFU, which naturally incites a ‘jump the fuck up’ moment – “Don’t worry about your knees, they sell Deep Heat here!” – he’s on properly galvanising form. It’s no surprise that by the time he thunders through closer Block, the pit is a site of madness. Native James has defied one to watch status by now. If you aren’t watching, what are you doing? (EW)

PUP were always going to struggle to outdo the chaotic intimacy of their darkness-clad Forest Sessions set appearing on the main stage in the glaring sun. It’s to their massive credit, though, that they do come close. Repeating songs from last night, even ones as good as DVP, Sleep In The Heat and Hunger For Death, is a pity when they have so many other bangers in their back catalogue not played here. Regardless of that, getting to jump up and throw down to Sleep In The Heat and Full Blown Meltdown on a day as gloriously, punishingly skin melting as this is a rare delight. (SL)

Delilah Bon's power is amplified tenfold live. With the seething tones of her backing band - among them Hands Off Gretel bandmate Becky Baldwin - she's a lightning rod of resistance. Though performing among protest signs in a shirt with 'STOP THE BLOKES' scrawled on the front, at first the prevailing emotion is joy, with Brat and getting the girls, gays and theys down the front. Then she becomes a Molotov cocktail of rage with Epstein protest anthem Time's Up and the blazing Dead Men Don't Rape. The piece de resistance is the transfixing balladry of Not The President, which brings Delilah down to the barrier to look the fans in the eye as she sings the most moving words she has ever put down. This has always been the ideal way to witness her in all her brat punk glory, but this is the best live she might have ever been. (EW)

On paper, Superheaven’s brand of laid-back, sunbeaten alt.rock should be a perfect salve at the end of a scorching day, but most of the audience packed into The Axiom are almost too melted to get properly into it. There is a pleasingly grungy gorgeousness about Sponge, Leach and Numb To What Is Real, and the slightly more driving likes of Cruel Times and Around The Railing do manage to stir a little movement from the front rows. But where, on another night, Long Gone, In On It and Poor Aileen would be songs to fall into and drink up, here they feel more like background music as tired bodies edge towards unconsciousness. (SL)

At first, it seems like putting The Dirty Nil on one of the smaller stages was a mistake, given the tent is overflowing come showtime. However, things change when an anaemic mix that washes out any bite of guitar proves an unfortunate atmosphere killer that gets some punters filtering out the back. The band have a battle to keep people hooked when they could be refilling their pints or waiting for the headliners, but as their mix sharpens, they claw things back, especially with a heroic Blunt Force Concussion that has Luke Bentham basking in the glow of the adoration of the crowd’s sing-along. “Thank you for making some Canadian boys feel so at home,” he says. In some ways, the odds weren’t in their favour, but they’ve rocked on with charm and enthusiasm nonetheless. (EW)

Static Dress have already cut a swathe through UK festival season this summer, with explosive shows at Slam Dunk, Outbreak and a short headline run in support of brilliant new album Injury Episode. Up against Don Broco riding in to save the day this evening, though, and the heat sapping energy all over the place, they face a crowd significantly smaller and less engaged than they deserved. Not that Olli Appleyard is the kind of bandleader to take any sort of apathy lying down. Instead, he throws himself doubly into Pharmacy Film and Nostalgia Kills. It helps, perhaps, too, that Glassjaw will be performing this weekend. Audibly one of Static Dress’ deepest influences, you can hear their echo in Male-bomb and sweet. But rather than showing any kind of deference to their forbears, there’s a willingness here to upstage them. The sound of weirdo young lions coming to claim the throne. (SL)

“This time last week,” says Don Broco’s Rob Damiani, “we didn’t think we’d be here.” In a cortisol-fueled turn of events, original Trees headliner Alkaline Trio pulled out with less than a week to go after vocalist-guitarist Matt Skiba’s health took a turn for the worse. In a matter of hours, Broco were called up for a surprise sequel to their 2024 headline performance, which Rob says holds up as their favourite festival show.

Nicely oiled from their support slot with Biffy Clyro last week, Broco are primed to start the party in a way only they know, firing off with the thick nu metal tones of opener Cellophane and the filth-strewn riffs of Pretty. Despite the short notice, they’ve even brought some pyro. Away from the banter and bravado – especially when they call for a mock hydration break to boos and chants of “VAR! VAR!” – the chief takeaway tonight is how many more stripes they have with new album Nightmare Tripping in their back pocket.

There’s more variety, a deeper darkness to their sound at points, even a sense of drama about how they perform a song like Fingernails or indulge in the inkiness of Disappear. Never does it get bogged down, but it was never going to with songs as massive as Everybody, T-Shirt Song (with obligatory shirt-swinging) and the immortal Bruce Willis shoutalong ‘YIPPEE KI-YAY MOTHERFUCKER!’

“Alkaline Trio’s shoes are impossible to fill,” admits Rob, but this humility doesn’t detract from the fact that they’ve still executed something brilliant in how they’ve pulled this together at such short notice. It strikes a very different note from the band that was originally booked, but the crowd are devouring it nonetheless, just like they always were bound to. (EW)

“When we play gigs, we get a lot of shit about what we wear,” sighs Brèagha Cuinn. “But punk is about what you believe in and what you stand for, not whether you're doing it in high heels and lipstick.” With songs as infectious and bristling with political purpose as Turnstile, Real Men Eat Meat and Tokened, it’s a wonder that anyone would get too hung up on the slightly glam sartorial stylings favoured by the Bratakus guitarist/singer and her bassist/singer sister Onnagh. The dynamic duo might have travelled down from the far north of Scotland, but with tunes as powerful as Can’t Shut Me Up and Cut Us, it surely won’t be long until they’re at the heart of the ‘best new band’ conversation. (SL)

It’s hard to get a handle on Sans Froid. In our review of latest album Back Into The Womb, K! compared them to Sonic Youth, King Crimson, Björk and Skunk Anansie. Today, they feel more like what it could have been had the great Kate Bush emerged from Gen-Z. Performing amongst the greenery of the forest, the Bristol collective seem to emphasise Aisling Trafford’s flighty vocals and the jazzy free flow of their music rather than the more angular math-rock flourishes that some across on record. Although 30 minutes at lunchtime on Friday was never going to be enough to truly get teeth into an outfit with this many ideas going on at once, they leave the stage with the piqued interest of plenty of new fans. (SL)

"Make some noise for the summer!" declares Higher Power’s Jimmy Wizard. Everyone's melting, but to him, it is a more pleasant contrast to the gloomy seasonal depression he sings about today in Low Season. Summer is what Higher Power are made for, anyway, especially when they get to smash through their tunes out in the open air. They've got a sackful of beefed-up tones and balmy vibes, especially on the newer songs like the lovestruck whirl of Kaleidoscope and the sweet, soaring closing pair of All the Rage - dedicated to Jimmy's mum and aunt - and Absolute Bloom. Jimmy even offers a contender for quote of the day. "Take your shoes off! Eat some grass! Pretend you're a horse! Whatever makes you happy." (EW)

Stephen Harrison doesn't care if the sun is sapping the energy of House Of Protection's afternoon crowd - he is putting that energy back in their veins. "Move your lazy fucking asses!" he bellows. They quickly oblige as he and co-conspirator Aric Improta draw the crowd into their daredevil punk rock circus, complete with Stephen jumping into the pit for Learn To Forget and Aric standing on a board held up by the punters down the front. It helps that they sound electric today, especially for the gnashing unreleased song 99 Per Cent and an earth-shaking closer of It’s Supposed To Hurt. Everyone who has seen this is bound to be walking away a little taller than when they came. (EW)

Anthony Green’s turn in the forest is a multifaceted kind of show. He’s mashed together his own songs as well as Saosin classic Seven Years and a couple of Circa Survive tunes, and while it’s certainly a tonic as festivalgoers shelter under the tree cover, there’s an abrasive touch too. There’s a chance to chill, but there are enough shifts from the hard edges to the soft moments to breathe that nobody can just sit here and let it pass them by. At points, all that can be heard through the trees is his raspy wail and it’s stunning. (EW)

The Scratch could outperform a Van Der Graaf generator with the level of electricity they generate live. Boisterous, sharp and up for a laugh, they’re the perfect kind of rowdy for the Trees main stage, thanks to gravelly, stomping riffs galore and chunky, agile percussion that makes dancing feel joyously mandatory. So many of these songs are proper heaters, from the wryly jaunty Cheeky Bastard to the metallic Gladrags, and Another Round is nothing short of biblical. How do you follow a set as great as House of Protection’s? Like this, it turns out. (EW)

“The last time we played here was seven years ago,” recalls Free Throw’s Cory Castro. “Crazy.” If they weren’t an ocean and a continent away, it’s easy to imagine them being Trees regulars and are met with the adoration of one, judging from the gleeful singalongs to Two Beers In. Making The Axiom look like a tin of sardines, they throw just the right amount of dorkiness, abrasion, mid-afternoon chill and feeling in a blender and the product is a delight to behold. Can we have this again a bit sooner than 2033 please? (EW)

“The last time we played here there weren’t nearly as many people,” says Militarie Gun’s Ian Shelton, squinting into the sun. “And we were way worse as a band.” The scales were tipped against them at that show in 2023 given two members were missing, but today’s show is more than befitting of their late-stage promotion to the main stage. They’ve sandpapered their live show into something tighter and more confident, loaded with Ian’s charisma and groove, as well as some proper barnburners from the bouncing Fill Me With Paint to the lairy B A D I D E A. The biggest swing by far is Kick, a song that’s been embraced massively by the crowd thanks to its cutting yet brilliant candour: ‘If I kicked you in the face/I’m sorry, but I will do it again.’ This was awesome. (EW)

Greywind are primed to weave some magic among the towering trees as the sun’s light weakens. All the passion they wield on record is channelled with all its might into the Kilkenny duo’s performance – though occasionally sounding overblown - with a little extra theatrical sparkle brought by vocalist Steph O’Sullivan. Even speaking between songs, her voice pitches higher with excitement. ‘You said I was dead / I’m at 2000trees!’ she sings. It’s only a shame that this is put on pause for a significant while due to a medical incident (but health comes first, of course), but what they have delivered on was still mighty fine. (EW)

"This is a celebration of life," says Ginger Wildheart, "so throw that fucking hand in the air." Lambrini Girls dropping out opened the door for this showing from the Geordie hero, who's vowed not to let his recent cancer diagnosis stop him playing. There's a quiet but tangible mutual understanding of why everyone is here, greeting the man of the hour with a chant of "GINGER! GINGER!" He even cracks the tequila out and brings out his dog Maggie as he did at Download, to a huge chant of "WOOF." Their polished but pointed rock 'n' roll sounds immaculate, adding a life affirming note to one of the most joyous yet emotional sets of the weekend. It's one for the Trees history book, and a comfort that they were able to get it in the diary. (EW)

There’s been fevered anticipation for the return of Arcane Roots, playing only their second show today since they ended their eight-year hiatus at the top of 2026. The tremble of the violins and the swirl of piano that opens A Wave, Across The Sea set a cinematic tone that remains unrelenting for the next hour, marked by dramatic lighting (we hope their lightning designer gets paid handsomely), and totemic riffs that could wash anyone away like a rough current. This is the sound of true rejuvenation and it’s never felt so all-consuming.

This must be like stepping inside one of Lucas Woodland’s dizziest daydreams. The possibility of singing with a band he loves as much as Funeral For a Friend seemed like the stuff of fiction in and of itself, but it's reached new levels of extraordinary. He’s at a festival he loves, one where he has played every single stage with Trees favourites Holding Absence - "It isn't my first rodeo," – and now, he gets to headline it as part of a band he’s loved for longer than he’s even been singing.

Ever since he took the reins in 2024, he’s given them some of their shine back live, and tonight that continues. All The Rage quickly hits an ignition point with its choppy riffing and Streetcar gets all the emotion rushing in after being restarted due to an injury – “The phone reception is bad, let’s try that call again,” is one smooth save from Lucas. Along the way, they dust off the scabrous She Drove Me To Daytime Television for the first time since he joined and welcome Neck Deep’s Ben Barlow for an epic collision of north and south Wales’ finest in a soaring rendition of Juneau.

They’ve stopped by Slam Dunk and Download as they’ve reintroduced themselves to the festival circuit post-break up, but the darkened sky and verdant scenes of a night at Trees might be the locale that suits them best. If nothing else, they cement how suited they were to this with a gorgeous closing trio of History, Into Oblivion and Escape Artists Never Die that’s enough to fully reawaken the urge to grab some eyeliner and some black hair dye. This has been heartwarming to watch. (EW)

Frozemode are touching familiar soil today, heading back to the first festival that ever embraced them, now on the Main Stage. Though they’ve landed one of the hardest types of festival slots to play, the sneering and the swagger that Stick Dat and Dead Man exude quickly get the crowd warming their muscles up in the pit and kicking dust clouds into the air. The grimy vibes are immaculate and it’s no wonder they get moving so easily, loudly expressing their disapproval when they make the mistake of saying they have two songs left when they were meaning to play their final track. It’s been a great start to the day. (EW)

At festivals, it can pay off to be big and stupid. Battlesnake know this well, jumping from the Forest to the Main Stage within just a year. It’s already bustling even as the burning sun pushes vocalist and guitarist Sam Frank to shed his white robe and perform in his boxers (which somehow feels on brand). While the goofy yet vicious theatricality of I Killed Satan, I Am The Vomit and more offers endless entertainment, their aggression and precision adds an extra layer of substance. And, of course, there’s loads to headbang to. This is the peak of festival fun, and whatever your musical persuasion, they deserve to belong on every festivalgoer’s timetable. (EW)

There’s a lovely moment late in Pinkshift’s set where vocalist Ashrita Kumar extends a hand up towards the trees at the side of the stage. It’s a moment of reverence for the nature that surrounds the festival site, which also offered the seeds of inspiration for last year’s Earth Keeper. “Being in nature is what this band is all about.” It’s not just the love of the flora that helps them slot in so nicely here, it’s the calibre of their tunes and the passion that radiates from them throughout the snarling opening pair of Evil Eye and Anita Ride and the gorgeous, grungy Soundgarden worship of Spirit Seeker. Old favourite I’m Gonna Tell My Therapist On You, meanwhile, has armfuls of attitude that it’s hard not to adore. Somehow, they don’t get enough credit for how great they are live, and that needs to be changed swiftly. (EW)

Mouth Culture were absolutely made for this. Nabbing an impressively high slot for a band still without an album to their name (hurry up), they serve up a hypnotic combination of biting riffs, sunny melodies and just an edge of sexiness to make the crowd sweat in all the right ways. Their songwriting glints in the sun, such as with the snaking No Shame and the explosive Sharkbait, but when they peel back their bravado and decelerate a little for the emotive yet colossal ballad Everyday, the results are breathtaking. Already, they have the songs and the confidence to project the impression that they could play even bigger stages without it feeling like they’ve stumbled into the wrong place. (EW)

It’s been eight years since Marmozets last played Trees, but those years haven’t diluted their venom as much as age it like wine. Becca Bottomley’s screams are powerful enough to crack glass as she dances through the roiling Why Do You Hate Me? and the sawtoothed Major System Error, but it’s their emotional moments that truly make this set. Their fresh new love song Closer To You is already performed like it’s the classic it deserves to be, and Captivate You is capable of making hearts explode from ribcages. This has been wonderful to witness. More of the same soon please? (EW)

Every time Ho99o9 unleash another song it’s like rolling a dice. There’s no predicting what could come up. Sometimes it’s wrecking-ball punk rock, like recent single Power In Numbers; sometimes it’s ear-rattling rave music, like the jittering BATTERY NOT INCLUDED. Spliced between them are an array of eclectic interludes, from Frank Sinatra to The Chordettes, in which theOGM sways and dances from behind his programming desk and the tension evaporates. At times, it’s almost humorous. It ends in a unexpectedly dramatic style when they overrun and the plug gets pulled, but they used the time they did have to create a twisting, turning thrill ride. (EW)

Glassjaw’s appearance on the Trees poster for this year felt like one of its most attention-grabbing details, especially since they’ve never played here before. It’s brimming with the potential to be huge and sometimes, it does get there, like with the hard-edged Siberian Kiss. Tip Your Bartender sends a ripple of excitement through the crowd, and Ape Dos Mil is a slick melodic counterpoint. At other times, though, it’s somehow not quite as arresting as it could be, perhaps a slight air of complacency to it. It doesn’t help that the wind occasionally washes the sound out, but while it’s solid, it seems that there’s just one ingredient or two for greatness missing. (EW)

We shit you not, there’s an actual dinosaur pile-up for Dinosaur Pile-Up. Around ten people in inflatable dinosaur costumes have assembled in the pit, to vocalist-guitarist Matt Bigland’s glee. “I fucking love it!” The Axiom is exceptionally busy with fans awaiting a stack of stomping punk anthems, starting with a crackling Bout to Lose It before they blare through a new album-heavy set. The bounding Sick Of Being Down is a particular highlight, as is the emotional storm of Love The Worst, with some self-lacerating grunge thrown in the form of Matt’s personal favourite I Don’t Love Nothing And Nothing Loves Me. From top to bottom, it rules, and it’s a fantastic prologue to this festival’s finale. (EW)

In some ways, because of its size, Trees can act as a research lab for the big headliners of the future. Although Neck Deep did get a co-headline billing at Slam Dunk in 2022, they get to test their mettle on a bigger scale now they have the top spot here all to themselves.

Every time the Wrexham pop-punkers step up to a stage this big, there’s an air of destiny about it. Even the songs they wrote just as they were entering their twenties get to be blasted in their ultimate form, and somehow they feel nostalgic yet fresh all at once. Deploying Can’t Kick Up The Roots as their opening serve is a squeal-worthy moment of audacity that gets immediately contrasted with Where Do We Go When We Go’s sunshine-and-showers existentialism. Altogether, it seems like tonight anything goes. Dumbstruck Dumbfuck is a giddy headrush, while Lowlife ushers in a goofy moment where the lights change colour to match the lyrics: ‘My colours yellow and green / But I like some purple with my tangerine.’

Although this is so far their only gig of 2026, it’s not framed as one with any major statement behind it beyond the business of creating one last moment to rejoice in before the hangovers and the clear up call. They do, however, note that they’ve squeezed in at least a morsel of each of their albums. The return of scrappier older cut Crushing Grief to the setlist is greeted with both glee and a giant mosh pit caving open, and because it’s a special occasion, they get to howl along to A Part Of Me as well as a nod to their early EPs.

Closer In Bloom seals the deal with one last shot of sweetness, closing the book on a phenomenal Trees with the perfect atmosphere for the moment. What a send-off. (EW)