Meltdown 2026: Bar Italia

I walk into this Meltdown gig a couple of minutes late without knowing anything about the first support act, figuring they might not even have started yet, but there’s at least 20 people already on their feet, dancing and screaming. The crowd looks very young, and some of them are shouting out in-jokes between songs. I feel like I’ve stumbled into a school assembly.

It turns out that local four-piece The Souvenirs only finished their GCSEs this month. They seem appreciative to be here but hardly overawed by the occasion, and it’s difficult not to be carried along by their charming performance — and by the band’s cheering section, which seems to be taking up the entire front area.

I’m showing my age with these references, but they slide easily into a lineage of fizzy guitar pop bands like The Holloways and The Answering Machine, or Westside Cowboy if you want something more recent. Riotous set closer ‘Stay Another Night’ recalls Jack Peñate at his most energetic.

It’s a tough one to review. On the one hand, The Souvenirs are good enough to dispense with the dreaded qualifier “for their age”, already clearing half the shite that gets booked at Truck Festival or whatever. On the other hand… well, no serious adult is listening to this music in their spare time. One (admittedly very catchy) song is called ‘Skipping Sports Day’, and tellingly the biggest cheer of the set is for a brief mention of Meltdown curator and professional heartthrob Harry Styles.

There is basically nothing about this music that suggests it was made in 2026. Aren’t the kids supposed to be listening to fakemink and xaviersobased? I guess nobody gave Arctic Monkeys shit for not boasting a complete collection of Perlon 12”s. Occasionally we get a hint of something more interesting — some baggy Ride worship, or a bit of Casablancas-style swagger. It’s hardly a crime for a group of Year 11s to still be finding their own sound, and thankfully they’re not too cool or disillusioned to whip out a drum solo or some finger-tapping guitar pyrotechnics.

It feels almost churlish to wonder how they got the gig, but also seriously incurious not to. I can’t imagine their education at The King Alfred School (£9,860 per term) held them back. We all know how the game works, but still, they strike me as passionate kids rather than feckless nepo babies. The talent is there, and with a more adventurous musical diet they could turn that potential into promise and be more than just sixth form celebrities. In the meantime, if you’re a teenager, you could do much worse than base your entire personality around The Souvenirs for the next two years.

London-based singer-songwriter Rocheman (aka Jordan Mallory-Skinner) is up next, accompanied by his band. It’s a strange bit of programming whiplash, but a real relief to hear some mature music. Their songs call to mind the prettier moments of These New Puritans, or the moodier inclinations of The Blue Nile. They’ve found a really interesting place between swaying sophisti-pop textures and more wiry post-punk moves.

There’s a louche kind of dark undercurrent to the music, slick and shiny like it’s been dredged up from the Thames. Broadly speaking, the more immediate songs are the most successful ones. Some of them fall into the trap of meandering around without enough purpose. But Mallory-Skinner has a fantastic voice that suits this music perfectly, and crucially he understands how to sell a performance.

Our headline act Bar Italia instantly kick things up several gears. It seems a long time ago their live shows were getting dreadful word-of-mouth reviews (not helped by a memeable clip of their performance on French TV). At some point they decided to change their approach, or at least lock the fuck in. By the time I first saw them at RALLY Festival in 2024 they were inciting mosh pits among the too-cool gorpcore art students. Behind the bratty interviews and the Dean Blunt smokescreens, they are now revealed as merely a very good rock band.

The live show remains pretty snarly, but in slightly more of a controlled way which means the band doesn’t feel too out of place on the QEH stage. Still, the guitarists are shredding at every given opportunity, and the drum kit looks on the verge of falling apart.

The setlist is stronger than any time I’ve seen them. There aren’t really any low points, although there are some clear highlights, with ‘my little tony’ acting as an early wake-up call. Another arrives later on with ‘changer’, an intoxicating dream pop concoction where the dynamism of their shared vocal duties really shines through. None of the main trio can really sing, but they attack it with enough bite and personality that it ceases to matter. Lead vocalist Nina is really the main ingredient that elevates the band in a live setting, her elastic yé-yé dancing setting the levels and making her look like a Nouvelle Vague film star.

Where Bar Italia go from here is anyone’s guess. I wouldn’t mind seeing a pivot back towards their artier DIY roots, but if they want to double down and go full-on arena riffs, they’ve certainly got the performance to match now.