By Josh Bicknell
The first proper show of 2026 for me (a bit late, I know), and the O2 Ritz was electric. Conversations buzzed, bodies jostled, and this stacked bill promised one thing… a night of blistering hardcore bedlam.
Few bands embody Liverpool hardcore’s uncompromising extremity quite like God Complex. Returning from hiatus with renewed venom following 2025’s ‘He Watches in Silence’ EP, their opening slot felt less like a warmup and more like a warning shot.
From the moment they stepped onstage, it was clear the crowd was not here to ease into the evening. They were ready for violence. As the first note rang out, the pit was already alive, ten to fifteen people surging into the centre, limbs swinging without hesitation. For an opener, that level of participation was unprecedented and spoke volumes about their reputation within the Northern scene.
From start to finish, the set was merciless. ‘Ba’al’s Trick’ and ‘Flooded Lungs’ landed with suffocating weight, each breakdown sparking fresh waves of chaos and proving that the years away had only sharpened their edge. Members of Loathe, Static Dress, and Guilt Trip watched from the crowd, a reminder of the band’s stature. Then, just when the set seemed to have reached its absolute peak, Loathe’s Eric Bickerstaffe stormed the stage. His throat-ripping screams added a new layer of hostility, elevating the performance into something unforgettable, a moment where the room collectively lost itself in pure, unbridled hardcore fury.
While God Complex delivered sheer blunt force trauma, One Step Closer’s impact felt a little more personal. Their brand of hardcore leans heavily on confessional lyricism, and that vulnerability immediately shifted the room. The opening moments felt looser and more reflective, with the pit transforming into a sea of swaying bodies and restrained movement as the crowd let their dreamy ambience wash over them.
However, that restraint was short-lived. “Isn’t this a hardcore show?” vocalist Ryan Savitski challenged, invoking Manchester’s reputation as ‘Slamchester,’ and the response was instant. The floor snapped back into motion, calm giving way to chaos as the crowd surged forward with renewed urgency.
Savitski’s vocal delivery was striking, high-pitched and raw, drawing comparisons to Bryan Garris of Knocked Loose, though even more piercing live. It felt polarising but undeniably authentic, his intensity bleeding into every word as ‘Giant’s Despair’ and ‘The Reach’ closed the set on a powerful emotional high.
What initially seemed like a momentary breather became one of the night’s most endearing performances. One Step Closer’s warmth and sincerity gave the set its own kind of weight, proving that vulnerability can hit just as hard as any breakdown.
After One Step Closer had reignited the pit, Sunami turned it into a warzone. From the opening punch of ‘Six’, the atmosphere shifted into something genuinely threatening. This was hardcore in its most hostile form, their beatdown riffs not just sounding heavy, but physically shaking the Ritz.
As the set progressed, ‘Gate Crasher’, ‘Contempt of Cop’, and ‘Sunami Style’ sent the floor into violent overdrive, fists swinging and bodies colliding without hesitation. This was not casual moshing, but survival of the fittest. Even seasoned gig-goers hovered at the edges of the pit, watching carefully without daring to step in.
Yet beneath the chaos was an unspoken understanding. The violence had structure, governed by instinctive rules everyone seemed to recognise. Everyone knew when to two-step, when to start windmilling, and, most importantly, when to pull someone back to their feet. Sunami was not simply playing songs, they were detonating them, and the crowd met that energy head-on. By the time ‘Weak Die First’ brought the set to a close, the room felt bruised, breathless, and primed for the main event.
From the moment Counterparts stepped onstage, the atmosphere transformed completely. The stage resembled a gothic cathedral, complete with imitation stained glass and candlelit ambience, echoing the fallen angel imagery of their latest material. It was theatrical without feeling artificial, establishing a sense of reverence before a single note was played.
Opening with ‘A Martyr Left Alive’, the emotional intensity hit immediately. The pit surged once more, but this time with a different purpose. Where earlier sets thrived on chaos, Counterparts thrived on catharsis. ‘Bound to the Burn’ and ‘Wings of Nightmares’ delivered early aggression, while ‘Paradise and Plague’ and ‘Your Own Knife’ saw beer cups flying overhead as the crowd lost themselves completely in the moment. Brendan Murphy’s stage presence was commanding yet deeply human, his gestures and calls never feeling scripted, instead reflecting a genuine connection with the audience.
Mid-set selections like ‘Witness’ and ‘Stranger’ proved Counterparts know exactly how to manipulate a crowd. Heavy songs slammed with full force, then gave way to melodic interludes that let the pit breathe before chaos returned. Each shift was intentional, shaping the room’s energy instead of leaning on volume alone. By ‘Heaven Let Them Die’, the band had driven the night to a peak so precise that every voice and fist matched Murphy’s in collective release.
Finally, after a brief pause, the band returned for the encore. ‘Love Me’ became a moment of pure communion, hundreds of voices roaring back with unrelenting intensity. It was not just heard, it was felt. That energy carried directly into ‘Whispers of Your Death’, where crowd surfers surged toward the stage, lifted by the same hands that had moments earlier driven the pit’s chaos.
Aggressive, cathartic, and uncompromising, three years on from their last ÜK and EÜ headline run in 2023, Counterparts proved they still hit harder than ever, asserting definitively that they remain one of the most vital bands in the scene.
- All written content © Über Röck 2026.
- Photo as credited.