There are some bands that manage to tap straight into something raw and recognisable in the human condition, and for me, Spanish Love Songs are one of them. Every lyric feels like it has been torn from the pages of a diary, every chord built to hold the weight of things that cannot quite be said out loud. Seeing them live is less about entertainment and more about catharsis. On the 23rd of October at one of Manchester’s most beautiful venues, New Century Hall, they reminded everyone in the room exactly why they command such loyalty.
It is no exaggeration to say that this place is one of my favourite venues, not just in Manchester but anywhere. There is something about the architecture, the perfectly acoustically balanced room and the glow of the lights across the mirrored ceiling that makes it feel warm yet grand. It is the sort of venue that seems purpose-built for emotional sincerity, where the walls hold on to sound just a little bit longer than they should. Fitting, because Spanish Love Songs trade precisely in that space between beauty and ache.
The second the lights dimmed, the anticipation hit like a pulse. When the opening notes of “Heavenhead” arrived, the entire room leaned forward as if bracing for impact. Sincere Engineer joined the band for the live debut of the song, and the collaboration was electric. It was an opener that immediately confirmed what I had always loved about them: they give absolutely everything from the first moment, no warm-up, no easing in, just pure emotional release.
From there, they didn’t let up for a second. “Losers” and “Self-Destruction (As a Sensible Career Choice)” arrived early, greeted with deafening roars from a crowd already beyond fever pitch. You could tell this wasn’t just a group of people who liked the music; this was a collective of true believers. Every word was shouted back with conviction, turning the crowd into a kind of choir. Singer Dylan Slocum barely had to say a thing between songs. The band have never been ones for lengthy banter, preferring to let the music carry the weight of connection, and here it worked perfectly.
It is always striking just how human they sound live. Albums by Spanish Love Songs are layered, textured and carefully produced, yet seeing them perform brings out something almost fragile. The imperfections feel right, the cracks in the voice become meaningful rather than mistakes.Songs like “Lifers” and “Generation Loss” hit especially hard. You could feel the air grow heavier each time Dylan approached the mic, voice trembling with that desperate clarity that makes this band so distinct.
By the time they reached “Pendulum”, the sound of the entire room singing in unison was deafening, and honestly, I felt that same strange mix of devastation and comfort that their music always evokes. There is a kind of unity that happens during their shows that is rare. It isn’t polished or showy; it’s an unspoken agreement that everyone is allowed to feel the things these songs uncover. Looking around, I saw faces contorted in joy, sadness, and release all at once.
Those of us who adore the album Brave Faces Everyone were spoiled throughout the night. Hearing so many tracks from it felt like revisiting a friend. “When Optimism (As a Radical Life Choice)” arrived mid-set, it felt like a rallying cry. The guitars were biting, the bass a heartbeat that drove everything forward. It has always been one of my favourites, a song that somehow manages to sound tragic and triumphant at exactly the same time. Live, it became a statement, a reminder that this band take hopelessness and twists it into defiance.
New Century Hall’s sound system deserves a mention. Too often, emotionally charged shows lose nuance to muddied mixes, but tonight every detail stood out. The guitars were crisp without piercing, and the drums sounded monumental without overpowering the room. That clarity made songs like “Beer & Nyquil (Hold It Together”) and” Kick” explode even harder, each transition between quiet fragility and full-bodied noise catching the breath before letting it go again in a rush.
Spanish Love Songs – Craig McConnel
“The Boy Considers His Haircut” landed perfectly, its restless rhythm shaking the floor. “Buffalo Buffalo” then swept through like a storm, merging melancholy and melody so naturally that it drew both dancing and tears from different parts of the crowd. When “Haunted” and” Losers 2” followed, it became clear that the setlist was designed as a kind of journey through grief, anger and hope.
Even for those arriving to this band without the context of every lyric or concept, the storytelling spoke with its own universal language. The emotional honesty cuts through all barriers. I caught myself more than once glancing around and seeing so many people looking upward, eyes closed, mouthing words that might well have once saved them from something darker. That is the effect Spanish Love Songs have, they do not perform to a crowd, they perform with one.
Before “Routine Pain”, Dylan paused briefly, thanked the audience for continuing to come to shows and for keeping the songs alive. The humility in that moment summed up why performances like this feel so affecting. There was no rockstar bravado, no pretence, just gratitude and disbelief that these songs born of isolation and quiet struggle have found a collective voice that fills a hall like this.
Then came “Clean-Up Crew”, one of the highlights of the night. The song’s pounding rhythm turned the room into a sea of movement, everyone bouncing and shouting along. By the time they closed the main set, the air in the venue felt heavy with sweat and sound, an exhaustion shared by both crowd and band. Every face seemed to carry that mixture of joy and fatigue that comes only from giving everything you have.
Yet none of us were ready to leave it there, and finally, the monumental Brave Faces, Everyone. It was not even on the printed setlist, but perhaps it was inevitable. Ending with the title track of what many still consider their masterpiece felt deeply right. The whole venue roared that mantra of “We don’t have to fix everything at once,” like their lives depended on it, and in some small symbolic way, perhaps they did.
When the final notes faded, there was a second or two of stunned quiet before the eruption of cheers. People hugged, strangers high-fived, and every member of the band looked genuinely overwhelmed. Spanish Love Songs always give everything they have, and tonight, Manchester gave it right back.
Leaving New Century Hall after a show like that, you feel a strange combination of uplift and emotional wreckage. Their music is not comforting in the traditional sense. It does not try to fix anything for you, but it lets you know you are not alone in the mess. That, I think, is why they mean so much to so many.
Standing outside afterwards, with the cool air replacing the heat of the venue, I thought again about why I love both this band and this space so much. New Century Hall has a way of making even the loudest music feel intimate, and Spanish Love Songs are experts in intimacy. The combination was stunning.
For me, Brave Faces Everyone has always been one of the most honest and unflinching albums of the past few years, so to hear so much of it live was pure joy. Nights like these are reminders of why live music still matters so deeply. When a band can take pain, exhaustion, and small flickers of hope and translate them into something communal and transcendent, it feels like a privilege just to stand there and witness it.
If you have the chance to see Spanish Love Songs on this tour, do not hesitate. They will make you sing until your voice cracks, they will make you feel things you maybe haven’t let yourself articulate in a while, and they will leave you exhausted but renewed. As the lights went out on New Century Hall, one feeling lingered above all else: gratitude.
