A.A. Williams at Bush Hall - photo by Magda Campagne

Some venues just have that magic air that lends them perfectly to certain types of music. Stepping into Bush Hall’s very gothic Edwardian ballroom complete with six chandeliers and ornate cherubs bathed in rich hues of dark blue, I felt as if time has stopped – a stop that was needed as I was rushing through very modern London with its usually very reliable infrastructure not playing ball that night.

As I frantically made my way through the sea of silhouettes draped in their finest black wares and already lost in the delicious sonic entree served by Pittsburgh’s Spotlights, their masterfully-crafted soundscapes stopped me in my tracks and the tidal wave of their cathartic doom-gaze pulled me in. The trio’s 2023’s LP Alchemy For The Dead was received with a high critical acclaim, but that night we were treated to a throwback – their 2016 EP Tidals played in full start to finish, and very fitting in 2026’s fast emerging theme of looking back at what our lives have been a decade ago. Theirs is the kind of music that escapes catchphrases and one liners – you can call it shoegaze, post metal or doom-gaze, but really you just have to let it wash all over you, and let yourself feel every distortion, every ethereal vocal harmony, every layered texture. Sarah Quiterio (bass/guitar) and Mario Quitero (guitar) together with their drummer Chris Enriquez were in perfect synergy and I was completely entranced by Tidals.

After a short break it was time for A.A.Williams to take to the stage – an artist I have been following since she burst onto the scene in the late 2010s and witnessing her well deserved success. In my internal music catalogue, I group her with my ‘amazing women making dark, sad music’ category, shared with Chelsea Wolfe, Emma Ruth Rundle and Anna von Hausswolff, but this is a very simplistic categorisation as each of them has a unique point of difference. A.A.Williams makes the most stunning, slow and beautifully layered, mournful blend of blues-tinted alt folk with a touch of metal and a generous pinch of goth. Ever since she emerged with her first songs, and before she had any albums or EPs to her name, she made herself at home among the discerning audiences of Roadburn, a festival that is home to a broad spectrum of ever-evolving ‘heavy’ music, as well as London’s Portals, who championed the equally broad experimental rock.

A.A.Williams was visibly moved to be back on her “home turf of London” – and the audience was very pleased for this homecoming. During her mesmerising set we were treated to the handful of recent new singles ‘Just A Shadow’ and ‘Wolves’, but it was her 2022’s LP As The Moon Rests that provided the frame for the evening. Her rich, layered sound (crafted with Matt Daly on guitar and keys and Wayne Proctor on drums) was the perfect backdrop to the soaring vocals. Looking around me I could see the audience was entranced, many with eyes closed, as they let the music envelop them entirely.

But it’s A.A.Williams’s songwriting that always stands out to me. It’s poignant, succinct and hits me right in the heart. I have been carrying the tote bag with the lyrics “I can’t belong here” from one of her earliest singles ‘Belong’ since 2019 because it often feels so apt. And while it wasn’t a part of that night’s set, but ‘Love And Pain’ from her debut Forever Blue made up for it ten-fold, opening with the ever-crushing opening:

All along I have known that
Forlorn is what I’ve become
Never far from being afraid
Of something that myself had made


The recent releases of three new singles allow me to hope that a new album might be on the horizon in the not too distant future. And when it lands, I will devour it instantly. Meanwhile, A.A.Williams is taking her tour across Europe and I would urge you to stop by if you can.

Follow A.A.Williams on aawilliamsmusic.com | Instagram | bandcamp

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