The Big Review: Slam Dunk 2026

Starting out as an offshoot from the club night of the same name at Leeds’ (now-defunct) 500-cap Cockpit, few observers in 2006 would have bet on Slam Dunk festival still being here 20 years down the line, let alone having metamorphosed into the two-site, six-stage extravaganza it has become.

But here we are. Now a fixture on the festival calendar to legitimately rival the mighty Download, the team at Slammy D have pulled out all the stops, bringing together legit pop rock heavyweights Good Charlotte, era-defining hardcore trailblazers Knocked Loose, lesser spotted veterans Sublime and Motion City Soundtrack and red hot newcomers PRESIDENT for an anniversary celebration that truly stamps their authority.

That’s barely scratching the surface, of course. Across a variety of alternating and revolving stages, they've packed the maximum amount of value into fans’ 11-odd hours buzzing around the sites.

There’s unfortunately always far too much for any one person to hope to take in even with a two-day weekend ticket and the 170-mile overnight scramble between sites. Fortunately, team K! were there sipping beers, basking in the sunshine and bringing you the many, many highlights from a weekend that’ll surely go down as an all-timer in many fans’ history books...

Greeting Hatfield affectionately as "Slammy D", the pressure of kicking off the first show on the Monster Energy stage doesn’t phase Youth Fountain's Tyler Zanon. He’s here for a good hang, and that he delivers by presenting only as calm, cool and collected. A warming Slammy D bops along and works with Tyler’s every command, and there’s audible appreciation as he introduces My Mental Health. It might be a pretty damned sad song, and a short one at that, but Tyler has a way with partnering gut wrenching lyrics with huge instrumental work, eventually earning himself the first and ceremonial circle pit of the day. Finishing up with oldie but goldie Blooms, he sails through his set with a breeze. (RR).

Hatfield Park is soaked in sun, spirits are high and Beauty School are providing the soundtrack. As Leeds natives and signees to their label, Slam Dunk is written in their DNA, yet they’re still awestruck to be here. “This has to be an admin error,” says vocalist Joe Cabrera. “This cannot be where we’re playing.” They charge through the sprightly When I’m Feeling Down and country-tinged Cowboy Milk with such force and passion they almost waver a little, Joe attacking his lines so hard he starts to sound slightly hoarse as the set goes on. Nonetheless, it’s a joyful set, especially when they conclude on the big, lovely slackers’ waltz of Lately to get the punters’ voices warmed up for a beautiful day. (EW)

"We're a band called Pest Control from this very city!" rasps Leah Massey-Hay as the Leeds crossover mob get the circle pit spinning at Slam Dunk North. "If this is your first time seeing us, let's fucking go!" Sounding a little ravaged from giving their all under the midday glare in Hatfield yesterday actually suits this lot. There's a sort of ramshackle charm about Year Of The Pest and P.M.C. that hits harder when it's rough around the edges. But by the time they get to the full-throttle climax, roaring for “Northern supremacy”, they've unsheathed their cutting edge, laying glorious waste to this Slammy D debut and a deservedly grandiose homecoming. Totally out of control! (SL)

"The sun is out!" exclaims Call Me Amour vocalist Harry Radford midway through the set. Which feels odd, given they perform in the shade of the Scott's Key Club Stage tent, but their neon-tinged metalcore is like a blast of sunshine for the soul. Call Me Amour bring the early party vibes to Hatfield, and tracks like Bloom and Girl On The Wall are absolutely electric. "Have the fucking best day. Enjoy the sun. Enjoy beer. Enjoy your friends. This is what it's all about" Harry yells by way of signing off, and it truly feels like there was no better way to get Slam Dunk 2026 underway. (JBT)

"Slam Dunk Festival, open it up for me..." Debbie Gough seethes, teeing up her very own pit-call catchphrase. "ROIGHT FUCKING NOW!" Throwing in a cheeky “BLEGH!” for good measure, it's not quite Bruce Dickinson telling a packed stadium to 'Scream for me...' but the unhinged level of violence Heriot inspire is on another level. Indeed, as arguably UK metal’s brightest young band, they land with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer this afternoon, deservedly commanding every ounce of energy not already withered by the oppressive midday sun. Angel Du$t soundchecking at almost full volume on the other side of the stage is a distraction at points, but the overwhelming power of Master Of Deceit and At The Fortress Gate will not be drowned out. (SL)

As the fans try to escape the glare of the midday sun in the site’s only tent this year, Dead Pony seize this opportunity to impress. They throw out banger after banger, from the revving Eat My Dust to the sass-soaked Freak Like Me, while they add an emotional touch to the fizzing Rainbows. “No matter what you are going through there is always a light at the end of the tunnel’,” says vocalist Anna Shields. When she summons the crowd to kneel down for closing song MANA – “Don’t be boring!” – the effect is explosive. It’s time Dead Pony’s name gets brought up in more conversations about the UK’s best new live bands. (EW)

A band who are yet to release a full-length record are on the Main Stage, and yet they are as worthy as those with a stacked catalogue. unpeople’s spongy tempos create a buoyant and bouncing Hatfield, proof that their clever riffs do something many guitar-driven bands dream of: they take on a life of their own, evolving into vocal hooks that Slam Dunk sings back to them. Vocalist Jake Crawford screams with a crazed look, eyes intensifying with the live debut of Clouds. And with such glorious weather, there has to be a trip down to The Garden. “Let’s ‘ave it!” demands Jake, as they whip up a circle pit with guitarist Luke Caley climbing aboard shoulders, rallying around to its ‘da-dadada-da-da’ melody. Arguably the kookiest and coolest band around right now, they’re sure to climb the ranks at Slam Dunk in the future. (RR)

"Do you know the Japanese word ‘Sumimasen’?" SiM singer MAH asks a rammo Key Club tent as temperatures begin to spike on Sunday. "It means 'I'm sorry', but also 'I can fix it!'"

It's a weirdly engaging intro for new single BLiND EYES, performed with a game audience filling in for guest singer Yukina from HANABIE. The Tokyo crew have been a band since 2004, but their brand of high-octane reggae-metal is still gathering a legion of new fans on this side of the world, and Slam Dunk throw themselves enthusiastically into Attack On Titan theme song the Rumbling and an aptly titled DO THE DANCE. It's a brand of good natured silliness that everyone here has already experienced at one point or another with UK favourites Skindred, but as MAH leads the tent in a chant-along countdown to one more massive mosh it's clear there's never really too much of a good thing. (SL)

To look at Angel Du$t on today is to look at hardcore in its many forms. You'd be forgiven for thinking that this is simply a group of guys plucked out of the scene's history and placed on stage together - and to be fair, given their many lineup changes, that's not far off the reality - but those mix-and-match aesthetics are the perfect embodiment of their era-and-region-hopping music. From that old-school Bay Area groove, to the blue-collar grit of the Midwest and the beatdown tendencies of the East Coast, Angel Du$t mete out a masterclass in hardcore fun with the likes of Toxic Boombox and Cold 2 The Touch going up like a tinderbox. (JBT)

Bayside bring wholesome vibes today. Even through belting out the bitter Sick, Sick, Sick, the Queens rockers are constantly engaging with fans. And if there’s one thing Bayside are today, it’s loud AF. The kick drum pelts across the field at de-fib, rib-rattling levels, but sometimes their sound becomes muffled and tangled into each other. Despite things being a little hazy, they pack in all you need for a pop punk knees up, and take the time to share their gratitude for the fans that have been singing along to the lyrics that Anthony Raneri wrote in a bedroom at home 20 years ago for all this time. (RR)

It's a real weekend of anniversaries at Slam Dunk this year. For Cancer Bats, this means getting into their immense Birthing The Giant debut for its 20th birthday. Though there hasn't exactly been too far a stray from the beef and groove in the years since, seeing the Canadian wrecking crew focusing on that early energy with two decades of muscle in them is a proper treat. As ever, Liam Cormier looks like the most just-pleased-to-be-here man on the bill, but their charge through French Immersion, Butterscots and a ferocious Pneumonia Hawk is thrillingly vicious. They're also brutally loud, meaning that you'll probably be feeling Jaye.Schwarzer's bass for the next week. Even in the horrible, horrible heat that makes you wonder how such low-temperature men haven't melted like cheap snowmen, a huge pit circles endlessly throughout, making for a brutal birthday party to remember. (NR)

"It took us 22 years to make a new album and we wrote this song in two hours," says Jason Perry, introducing box-fresh nugget Hello Sunshine, the first track from long-overdue fifth album Prang, marking the new era of 'A' to a sprawling crowd in Leeds. Dressed in blue jeans and button-down shirts, trucker caps and cowboy hats, the Suffolk crew are putting some real oomph into their Brits-cosplaying-as-Americans schtick this afternoon and it pays dividends in the anthemic Starbucks (“A song about coffee”) and the massive I Love Lake Tahoe, even as Jason admits "it's too hot to jump up and down". By the Sean Smith from The Blackout, and a couple of small kids dressed as skeletons, jump on for massive closer Nothing, Slam Dunk is at peak good times. (SL)

"From the United States to the UK and beyond, calling a genocide what it is is not an act of terrorism," seethes Dying Wish singer Emma Boster with bracing urgency. "So do your part, and call for a free Palestine!" As much as Slam Dunk serves as an escape from the world going to shit around them for many fans, it is a rare pleasure to see one of the bands earmarked by Stray From The Path guitarist Tom Williams as the future of righteous heavy music living up to their incendiary billing. Even more so as Symptoms Of Survival, A Curse Upon Iron and the heartbreaking Lost In The Fall (dedicated to their friend and late Harm’s Way guitarist Bo Lueders) showcase modern heavy music at its most ruthlessly cutting edge. I’ll Know Your Not Around is an incredibly dynamic place to leave off, marrying dense atmospherics and suffocating heaviness to underline a landmark set. (SL)

The bubbles and beach balls are out and the party is in full swing as Set Your Goals arrive. Their easycore anthems are a boon in these sun-ravaged fields – Mutiny! is an absolute blast at the top of the set and Goonies Never Say Die! goes down a treat. They get the whole crowd bouncing for Summer Jam and the vibes are immaculate as they dish out some of the most vibrant breakdowns of the day. It's no surprise, then, that so many of those assembled have followed them from their warm-up show in Camden the night before, and you can bet they've won over a fair few drifters here today as well. (JBT)

"Slam Dunk, you are off your fuckin’ nut today," marvels Josh Raven at the chaos in the Key Club tent for Hands Like Houses, then abruptly stops as he spots a young kid surfing towards the barricade. "Yeah, just come over here so you don't get caught in the mosh. We take care of each other, and we have a good time!" It's a moment that sums up the blend of aggression and sensitivity that makes them so great. A soaring cover of Chris Isaak's Wicked Game hammers the point home, before the thorny Dead twists the emotional knife deeper still. Chucking free shirts into the audience before Paradise, with its massive 'I'm doing just fine' crescendo, is a massive high. As is supersized closer Heaven. It’s low-key one of the sets of the weekend, with a cache of great songs as well as headliner levels of confidence and charisma. "This is the last time we'll see you for a while," Josh signs off. "You've stolen my hearts Slam Dunk!" Ours too. (SL)

Right from the detonation of opener Nostalgia Kills, Static Dress are on explosive form, with vocalist Olli Appleyard volleying across the stage like a tornado. Today, he’s mincing none of his words, offering the anthemic human props as a takedown of “every capitalist motherfucker” and suggesting “If you stand still, I assume you like PRESIDENT,” to introduce Death To The Overground. Pith aside, the band have brought barrel-loads of passion and determination as they storm through one of the tightest sets they’ve ever played, and they’re rewarded with a chunky mosh-pit for closer clean. What a force they are. (EW)

Celebrating 10 years of their 2016 debut, Nothing I Write You Can Change What You’ve Been Through, Trash Boat are throwing a raucous birthday bash at the Key Club today. They’ve a set list of anthems from that album, a helluva lot of energy, and Tobi Duncan has a buzz cut. A picture of his younger self, they’ve truly come full circle. They’re just as ecstatic as Hatfield to play the highly-requested Catharsis, and even after their set wraps, they linger around, with Tobi coming down to the crowd to meet those who’ve been there from the start eye-to-eye. If their time here today is anything to go by, their anniversary show at KOKO is set to be a corker. (RR)

Massive advertisements for Guilt Trip’s imminent new album Armour Of Angels are draped over the fencing around the Main Stage East on Sunday. It's a hype the Manchester mob are desperate to live up to.

"Slam Dunk, how the fuck are we feeling?" asks Jay Valentine as they hit full throttle. “That's dogshit! I said, ‘How the fuck are we feeling?!’” It’s daringly ‘hardcore frontman 101’ stuff, but confidence is hardly lacking. Almost non-stop demands for circle pits, two-steppers, walls of death and crowd surfers ("Let's give these security guards something to do rather than just stand here with their dicks in their hands!") threaten to overwhelm the sheer sonic impact at points. But even as punters topple and tumble in all directions, Angel Eyes and Thin Ice will not be stopped. "Who's excited to see PRESIDENT?" Jay goads as carnage reaches its peak. "Well, you're not seeing them unless this pit reaches the soundtrack desk." Spectacular shithousery from one of England’s heaviest bands. (SL)

“This was a perfect day to wear a suit,” John Feldmann sighs as his huge audience scramble to layer on the sunscreen. “A fucking perfect day.” Even at 58 years old, the legendary Goldfinger frontman still drips with the same wry charisma and irresistible charm that supercharged a genre without which Slam Dunk wouldn’t exist. Having started this band aged 25 in early 1994, first played Leeds Key Club in ‘96, and currently racking up their fourth appearance at the festival, they feel like a favourite part of the furniture at this stage. Songs like Here In Your Bedroom and Superman, meanwhile, are part of the ever-spinning playlist. It’s all capped off beautifully, too, by an army of fans releasing their own scarlet inflatables during the jubilant closing cover of Nena’s 99 Red balloons. Solid gold. (SL)

Maybe it's the first stiff breeze of the day, or maybe it's that Boston Manor are such an incredibly tight band, but there's a real sense of comfort that pervades their set. They blaze through Passenger, and the sing-along that accompanies Laika is stunning. Vocalist Henry Cox cuts a commanding and magnetic presence on stage and the love for the band is palpable. Arms sway, heads bob and lyrics are screamed back in full voice. And as much as Boston Manor are one of those bands that perfectly suit a mid-afternoon slot, they treat every second like a headline appearance, leaving it all out there on that sun-baked stage. (JBT)

Slam Dunk is an absolute slam dunk for Saosin today. And despite feeling like the perfect cornerstone around these parts, somehow, this is the Orange County post-hardcore veterans' first-ever visit to the fest, an occasion that results in a swollen crowd and a heroes' welcome. There's even a path-blocking gathering of folks realising it's possible to see them from the mercifully cool shady tree area. Sleepers, Bury Your Head and mega-hit You Are Not Alone are all a rush of adrenaline and emotion, while newie Starting Over Again is loaded with fresh bite, and closer Seven Years draws a predictably nuts response. Still, how have they not been here before? (NR)

It gets hot and heavy as Seattle’s cheekiest, The Home Team, rock up, with frontman Brian Butcher flashing his wicked smile like he knows a delicious secret. Flipping his long hair around, he’s not afraid of throwing a couple of bopping dance moves into the mix, or the odd shake of the ole caboose. Slam Dunk isn’t just about the mosh pits, after all, and from the funk of Loud to the slower pace of Walk This World With Me, The Home Team hit things out of the park. Climaxing with Worthy, there’s a tangible static and resurrection across a heat-exhausted Hatfield. Fifty per cent rizz, 50 per cent pop rock bangers, it’s exactly what the doctor ordered. (RR)

Bonnie Fraser has a hot take. While the sight of fans opening a rowing pit might turn the stomachs of some, Stand Atlantic’s resident quick-witted jester has fun with it. “We love it,” she says. “I’m the captain! Aye aye!” Everyone’s here is letting loose and rocking out as much as they are, serving non-stop bangers which have an extra spark live. GIRLS’ heavier slant live sounds brilliant, the scintillating Lavender Bones gets treated like a classic and Bon absolutely nails Jamie Hails’ screams in Criminal. It certainly helps that they’re the kings and queen of banter, but there’s something to be said just for how fun, not to mention consistent, StAt are live. (EW)

"England, we have been waiting all day to for you," screams Comeback Kid's Andrew Neufeld as he hurls himself over the front barricade into the faces of an army of raucous fans. A big, big crowd is stretching up the hill in front of the stage, but the Winnipeg crew attack their half-hour as if they were trapped inside some grotty sweatbox club. Slam Dunk responds in kind, with fists flung and a chest-collapsing heave at the front while game onlookers are spinning circle pits about 100 metres on up the hill. "I see some legends out here," Andre continues to hype, urging "no sing-along, only dance" as a cataclysmic Absolute explodes on into Wake The Dead. But nothing is any more legendary than the unapologetic beatdown happening onstage. Brutal. (SL)

"We specialise in writing very sad songs" says Chris Carrabba by way of introduction to Dashboard Confessional, although to hear the crowd sing back every word so fervently would suggest they need absolutely no introduction. But as mopey as some of their lyrics may ostensibly be, here under the mid-afternoon sun they evoke a real sense of community and love. Across the crowd, arms are slung around shoulders in a heart warming display of togetherness and humanity as Chris and his band deliver emo classics like Stolen and Vindicated. If you could distill the key ingredients of a successful music festival and bottle it up to sell, Dashboard Confessional’s set is the place to do it. (JBT)

“Its crazy that people could've been gathering in this field to drink for, like, 1,000 years,” muses Tom May, with characteristically oddball flair during The Menzingers’ one stop for air on Sunday.

“Wait, who would have been gathering in this field 1000 years ago?” asks co-vocalist Greg Barnett.

“Uh, Vikings?” shrugs Tom.

“How do we feel about the Vikings?” Greg turns to the crowd. “I'm thinking, ‘Fuck the Vikings!’”

It’s the sort of faintly boozy fucking around that only one of the most beloved bands at this whole damn festival could get away with but, thankfully, The Menzos are just that. For the big crowd clambering in front of the Monster Energy stage, it’s a rare treat to see the Scranton crew’s rosy red faces beaning into the bright sunshine, so I Don’t Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore, America (You’re Freaking Me Out) and Hope Is A Dangerous Little Thing hit all the harder this afternoon. Chance Encounters and Nobody’s Heroes from excellent upcoming album Everything I Ever Saw go down a real treat. And After The Party is still one of the best songs of this generation. Superb. (SL)

Slam Dunk is not alone in celebrating 20 years this weekend, as elder emo mainstays Taking Back Sunday take the stage to mark two decades of their superb third album, Louder Now. Mercifully, vocalist Adam Lazarra keeps his trademark freewheeling live vocals to a minimum, making the likes of What's It Feel Like To Be A Ghost? and Liar (Takes One To Know One) sound every bit the classics they are to this crowd. Playing through the whole album also gives deep cuts like I'll Let You Live and Up Against (Blackout) rare run outs. But the cherry atop the 20th birthday cake comes in the form of a full-throated Cute Without The 'E', which sends the crowd into overdrive and marks this as a very special set indeed. (JBT)

PRESIDENT’s anonymous commander in chief is practically melting late on Sunday afternoon. Clad in customary black tie, propped sporadically against the branded lectern centre-stage, his tongue pokes constantly through the mouth of his latex mask, craving water and cool air. Having seen their set interrupted by power outages yesterday in Hatfield, however, today’s campaign rally will not be interrupted.

Dozens of security are lined up behind the barrier like blue-vested Secret Service agents awaiting a stampede. But this vast gathering of the electorate, stretching up over the top of the hill and into earshot of Taking Back Sunday on the other main stage, stand transfixed by the poppy alt metal of Fearless, Dionysus and DOOM LOOP on its belated live debut. Rather than any direct address to the audience between songs, grandiose interludes quote famous works from great writers like Dylan Thomas and, er, The Bible. But there's no lack of personality in the songs themselves, with the transitions between breathy emo and swaggering R&B, whooping pop-rock howling post-hardcore truly incredible to behold.

Much has been made of PRESIDENT'S similarities to Sleep Token, and on grand outings like today’s it’s hard not to dwell on them. Their maskedd mythos does feel less well rounded and theatrical than that of Vessel and co here. But still months in advance of debut album Blood Of Your Empire, compositions like Angel Wings, Conclave and Destroy Me already feel a way ahead, as if the product of a reclusive master songwriter grown tired of decades in the spotlight rather than newcomers feeling their way. Either way, as messages over the PA tease that this is still just the beginning, and the leader raises his peace sign towards the crowdsurfers finally starting to flow for a colossal, climactic In The Name Of The Father, it’s clear that the biggest thrill of all will be finding out exactly what comes next. (SL)

“Do you remember us?!” asks Jenna McDougall, beaming as brightly as the early evening sun. It’s been nearly a decade since Tonight Alive played Slam Dunk. This festival is sort of their spiritual home, their pop-punk DNA is all over this place. As they open with The Edge, spidey senses can already tell Hatfield has truly missed them. Jenna’s not here under her softer Hevenshe name today, yet her loving nature still shines through as she reminds Hatfield that it is full of beautiful and strong people for World Away. You might think Slam Dunk isn’t the place for a Mumford & Son’s cover, but their Punk Goes Pop take on Little Lion Man is cool as folk. A perfect mix of sentimental sweetness and pure riot, it’s Slam Dunk done damn right. No notes. (RR)

Dani Winter-Bates lunges low to the stage, and as the music builds behind him, he slowly, almost calmly, moves his hands apart to gesture for Bury Tomorrow's crowd to open a pit up. He straightens up, howls the opening lines to Choke, and the place is alive. The temperatures might be dropping, but the Southampton metallers are still bringing the heat with ferocious tunes from Boltcutter to Villain Arc – and they’re bringing literal heat with blasts of pyro. There's 10 tonnes of power but leave their humility in tact. Dani admits he wasn’t sure if anyone would turn up for them when the line-up’s been strong today – “If you’re just biding your time for Malevolence or Knocked Loose, I’d be doing the same.” The chant of “BURY! BURY!” convinces him otherwise. “Our name’s not the easiest to chant, is it?” Oh well. They smashed it. (EW)

The Hatfield heat has become a lot to deal with for everybody on site by dinnertime, and maybe that's why Motion City Soundtrack feel like they are just going through the motions, even with their high billing atop the right of the two Monster stages. It's fine enough, but the Minneapolis pop-punk crew do little to leave their mark on the day and it feels instead like they're wiped out already. That's not helped by the fact that Bury Tomorrow's punishing low-end manages to infiltrate their whole set from across the field, but still, it's an untypically stale showing that sticks out like a sore thumb on the day. (JBT)

Petition to rename VUKOVI’s Janine Shilstone to Janine The Party Queen, anyone? Her entrance on the Key Club stage is enough to make anyone want to get on the lash, as she swings from a bottle of fizz and lets it erupt all over the crowd. With a maniacal laugh, the Scottish duo rip right into GUNGHO, and follow on with a healthy smattering of tracks from last year's killer MY GOD HAS GOT A GUN. Janine’s booming vocals echo around the sweaty tent, and she charismatically decorates their time with a lot of ‘fuck me’s and ‘holy fuck’s. While Hamish Reilly keeps the pace going from stage, Janine’s mic grows silent in patches as she descends into the crowd for the banger that started it all for the duo back in 2017: La Di Da. (RR)

Whether Sublime truly merit the honour of sub-headlining Slam Dunk’s really main stage is a legitimate topic of debate given the far heftier crowds for PRESIDENT, Taking Back Sunday and Goldfinger, but the bittersweet romance of their return makes it hard to resist. Having lost original frontman and bandleader Bradley Nowell to a heroin overdose in 1996, when his son Jakob was still just a few months old, the iconic Californian troupe’s bassist Eric Wilson and drummer Bud Gaugh waited for the kid to come of age and take his father’s place. A day short of the 30th anniversary of Bradley’s death, they deliver a set loaded subtly with emotion, even packing two massive inflatable dogs onstage in memory of original Dalmatian mascot Lou Dog who passed in 2001. Yes, the laid-back reggae influence and nonsense interludes from a ‘police scanner’ irritate as many as they delight, but only hard hearts would begrudge the airing of unequivocal classics What I Got and Santeria in the fading glow of the sun today. (SL)

Malevolence are on absolutely insane form today. From the moment Alex Taylor stops opener Trenches after its shout-along intro, insisting that the response is shit and that Hatfield can do better with a second attempt, the Sheffield sluggers' fearsome set is somewhere between all-out war and the greatest banter you've ever seen in your life.

Grinning when he's not scrunched up screaming, and decked out in a Nike vest that makes him look like a stab-proof fisherman, Alex himself has a mischievous, impish quality to him that's vital for turning this field into the chaotic scenes that unfold. The calls for more chaos during Karma, Self Supremacy and So Help Me God are in some ways unnecessary, but it adds an extra layer of pandemonium to proceedings. It's absolutely fantastic.

It's the hulking, collective, tank-like power that Malevolence now wield that's on full display today as well. The stage is decked out with amps, Slayer-like, while the precicion destruction of the riffs has become a proper threat. Even when they slow it down on the Crowbar-ish Higher Place, you're simply hit by just how enormous everything feels. When Bryan Garris joins them for a ferocious Keep Your Distance, anyone standing near a pit with a drink would be wise to do so.

"Hatfield, that were fuckin' daft," yells Alex in appreciation. Yep. But as Malev's only two gigs on home soil this year, Slam Dunk's had a perfect, brutal reminder of just what a jaw-dropping band they've become. (NR)

Closing out the left side of the twin Monster Energy Stages, State Champs have amassed what’s been the biggest crowd of the area all day. Even Derek DiScanio can’t help but remark how impressed he is with the turnout, and with that in mind they use every bit of their time as they possibly can to play tunes. Crammed back to back with very little chatter, the Champs smash out track after track among golden hour, and as Derek sings the famous line of All You Are Is History’s ‘I’m a realest and an optimist’, armies of fists punch the sky and the reply can be heard from all corners of the site. State Champs put on a show that delivers all the fan-hungry favourites and doesn’t mess about. You can’t ask for much else. (RR)

Deaf Havana have a tall order competing against State Champs and Malevolence today, but as the clock ticks past 8pm, the tent is bustling in anticipation of their celebration of 15 Years Of Fools & Worthless Liars. Indeed, James and Matty Veck-Gilodi are immediately treated like heroes. The enthusiasm of the choir-like singalong to album opener The Past Six Years is genuinely beautiful (and tuneful), so much so that when James thanks the crowd, a sob escapes him.

Dipping in and out of their landmark album with some other hits thrown in, Deaf Havana’s set lands like aloe vera on the day’s sunburn. Fever and Trigger have all the luminescence of the original recordings, The Blackout’s Sean Smith pulls up for a shirt-tugging rendition of Friends Like These and Hunstanton Pier ties a bow on proceedings in tear-jerking style. They’ve held their own beautifully here. (EW)

“You call that a fucking mosh pit, Leeds?” Bryan Garris’ lip curls slightly to suggest there’s a hint of real disdain for Slam Dunk North’s not-quite-wholehearted efforts to rip itself apart for Knocked Loose's brutal lesson in violence on Sunday evening. It’s understandable. After having seen these twin stages packed way past the sound desk for most of the day, there seems to be a slight dip in numbers for hardcore's finest. Regardless, those not here are missing the most ferocious performance this festival has ever seen.

Technically an off-date from their European stadium tour in support of Metallica, tonight feels like they’ve been taking notes from the old masters, perhaps even poaching one or two sound techs, as they make this hillside in the north of England sound like a stadium being pulled apart from within. Oblivion's Peak manages to outstrip its not-inconsiderable recorded iteration, steroidally mutated into something legitimately terrifying. Mistakes Like Fractures is pumped up with Slayer-slaying levels of mouth-shattering impact and infernal tone. Even cuts from feral but massive third album You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To dwarf what we’ve seen before.

YWGBYST’s massive strip-lit cross glows and flashes at the back of the stage throughout. It's an eerie focal point in the waning dusk light, and savage pyro is deployed tastefully sparingly. But the real theatrics come from the band themselves. Absurd as it seems to call Bryan any kind of ‘good cop’, that’s the role he plays, motivationally cheering the audience on in contrast to ‘bad cop’ counterpart and guitarist Isaac Hale’s unequivocally malevolent commands. “It starts right now: Violence.”

A whole host of cameos follow at the end of the set, too, with HERIOT’s Debbie Gough piling into God Knows, Pest Control’s Leah Massey-Hay picking up the POPPY part on Suffocate, Malevolence’s Alex Taylor aptly dropping by for All My Friends and, in a real surprise, Loathe’s Kadeem France with Static Dress’ Olli Appleyard crashing Billy No Mates.

Very few outfits could convincingly start a song with the announcement that, “This is one we wrote about getting murdered!” and finish it with confetti cannons. But Knocked Loose prove themselves in a class of their own on a truly unhinged Counting Worms. And as the atmospheric Deep In The Willow crashes out into massive closer Everything Is Quiet Now, the savagery down the front is perfectly matched.

It’s an awesome, statement showing: surely about the best a genuinely brutal band has ever sounded. (SL)

“It feels so good to be back in the motherfucking UK!” crows Joel Madden. The sun is sinking behind the main stage, and Good Charlotte are assembled on the lurid cube-shaped screens behind him. Joy and nostalgia are firmly on the agenda today, as the Baltimore pop-punkers return to the UK for their first shows here since 2019. That time away means they’re in front of plenty of fresh eyes, with a sizeable number of punters raising their hands when he asks later who’s seeing Good Charlotte for the first time.

The stakes aren’t exactly low, though. They’re testing their mettle ahead of their arena gigs at the end of the year, plus they’ve got fierce competition clashing with kings of the moment Knocked Loose. Consequently, it’s not entirely surprising that the turnout is slightly diminished for a headliner. Cracking on with the job, their 80-minute set is frontloaded with floor fillers, opening with the leftfield but no less effervescent The River and the zesty groove of I Don’t Wanna Be In Love. They sound punchy and clear today, even if Joel’s mic is a little quiet, and there’s a sense that the crowd will devour whatever hits they serve. The reaction for Girls & Boys is predictably electric, and there’s just as much excitement for the devilish Keep Your Hands Off My Girl.

Even so, the band are receiving that electricity rather than truly creating it. Occasionally, there's static, in spite of how much they gas up their luck to have got here and their gratefulness for their rags-to-riches journey. “Did you know how much we love being in the UK?” Joel offers. The only songs from before 2010 inserted into this greatest hits highlights reel are Bodies and Rejects from last summer’s Motel Du Cap – after all, it would be a disservice to the album to not play anything new. Still, there’s a brief lull.

Good Charlotte have rejigged the order of their setlist slightly from their U.S. shows earlier this month. Over there, The Anthem was the opener, but here’s it’s the closer, left so late on that there’s a moment where you might hold your breath in fear they’ve forgotten about it. Paired with Lifestyles Of The Rich & Famous, however, it ties a bow on Slam Dunk with a lovely moment of widespread collective euphoria as the fans leaving Knocked Loose are pulled in to soak up the magic and throw it back one more time. It’s hard to miss with songs as huge and fun as those. You wanted good vibes? Good Charlotte brought ‘em. (EW)

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