At what must have been almost a sell-out—if not an actual one—Sidney and Matilda was packed to the rafters with an eager, cross-generational crowd ready to celebrate the enduring charm of indie pop in all its scrappy, heartfelt glory.
Opening the night were Tulpa, a Leeds-based noise-pop outfit featuring on Rob and Amelia from Heavenly’s ever-reliable Skep Wax Records stable. Drawing heavily from last year’s excellent Monsters of the Week, their set blended newer cuts with a smattering of older material, immediately winning over the early crowd.
Tulpa’s sound is built on great riffs and a gloriously, deliberately scuffed-up DIY aesthetic. There’s a looseness to their performance that feels intentional rather than sloppy—twee indie melodies colliding with bursts of noise and even the occasional shoegaze haze. The influence of Heavenly is clear, but Tulpa are far from derivative; they twist those roots into something fuzzier and more chaotic. The crowd lapped it up, setting the tone perfectly for what was to come.
By the time Heavenly took to the stage, the room was buzzing—and they were rapturously received. On fine form from the outset, the dual vocals of Amelia Fletcher and Cathy Rogers brought a warmth and brightness that cut through the venue, adding a little sunshine to a packed Sheffield evening. Their trademark awkward charm had the audience in the palm of their hands almost instantly.
Dipping into their illustrious back catalogue while showcasing material from their excellent recent album Highway to Heavenly, the band struck a perfect balance between nostalgia and renewed vitality. Early highlights like “Our Love Is Heavenly” and “Trophy Girlfriend” were greeted like old friends, while newer tracks such as “Portland Town” and “Scene Stealing” slotted seamlessly alongside them.
There was a palpable sense of joy as they moved through the set—“Hearts and Crosses” and “She Is the One” chiming with effortless sweetness, while “P.U.N.K. Girl” and “Atta Girl” injected a punchier, more defiant energy. “Space Manatee” and “A Different Beat” showcased the band’s continued willingness to stretch their sound, all while staying true to their core identity.
The encore was a delight, with “Sperm Meets Egg, So What?” delivered with knowing irreverence before closing on a special rendition of “C Is the Heavenly Option,” featuring Elodie G of Plouf!—a fitting, communal finale that underlined the sense of scene and continuity surrounding the band.
If anything, the night highlighted how Heavenly continue to revel in the frayed edges—their punky attitude intact, their melodies as sharp as ever. Decades on, they remain both timeless and vital.
Whisper it quietly, but twee pop—or twee punk, as Heavenly themselves might have it—is in rude health.
