Gig: ASIWYFA & Delta Sleep @ Marble Factory, Bristol
Photography by Ross Peacey. Words by Kelly Rose, Co-founder
ASIWYFA by Ross Peacey
It’s a Saturday night in Bristol, and the December air is doing that thing where it seeps under your collar, reminding you that the year’s nearly done. Inside the Marble Factory, a few hundred people are packed in, eyes turned toward a stage lit just enough to keep you guessing what’s about to appear: Paranoid Void, Delta Sleep and And So I Watch You From Afar. This isn’t one of those gigs you stumble into by mistake—everyone here seems to know exactly what they’re in for. At least, that’s what they think.
Paranoid Void
Paranoid Void step forward first. They’re a trio from Osaka, and within moments, it’s like the room’s been hit by a quiet shockwave. There’s no time to settle in; they’re firing complex rhythms and twisting melodies out into the dark, and the crowd is transfixed. Nobody’s chatting. Nobody’s sneaking out for a smoke. Each note lands with a physical presence, the bass in particular carrying such force it seems to rearrange the space in front of it. You can almost see fresh fans being minted on the spot—wide eyes turning to each other, as if to say, “Where have these three been all my life?” When Paranoid Void finish, the applause isn’t a polite send-off, it’s a grateful roar from a room that just had its collective mind stretched a bit wider.
Delta Sleep
There’s a buzz during the changeover for Delta Sleep, whose name alone triggers cheers before a single note. They start with “Dawn” and move through “Slow Burn,” “The Softest Touch,” and further in without losing momentum. The bass playing again catches the ear, weaving through each guitar pattern, creating something that feels both familiar and fresh. A few tracks in—“Lake Sprinkle Sprankle,” “Sans Soleil”—and it’s clear this lot has been held in high regard by these people for a while now. You can sense it in the nods and knowing smiles, the way the first few rows move in unison. By “Camp Adventure,” the audience is locked in, and each subsequent track—“Figure in the Dark,” “Hotel 24,” “The Detail,” “Sunchaser,” “El Pastor”—just adds another layer to that trust. It’s not flashy, but it’s honest, and that’s more than enough tonight.
And So I Watch You From Afar
When And So I Watch You From Afar step up, there’s a different kind of hush—like everyone’s bracing themselves for what’s about to unfold. We were lucky enough to see AISWYFA at ArcTanGent this summer, for a full album playthrough of Megafauna, which has easily become one of my favourite releases this year. I was stoked to hear these pieces again in a new setting, and eager to hear them dotted into a mixed setlist. They open with “Mother Belfast (Part 1)” and “Mother Belfast (Part 2)” from Megafauna, and I’m struck by the ease at which they play and dance across the stage. It’s not just musicians playing their instruments—it’s four people who’ve internalised these sounds so deeply that playing them looks more like exhaling than performing. “Mullally” and “A Slow Unfolding of Wings” pass in a blur of effortless interaction, and as “Wasps” and “A Little Bit of Solidarity Goes a Long Way” hit, the crowd starts singing along to guitar lines as if they were choruses.
It’s here, as “North Coast Megafauna” and “Any Joy” fill the room, that I remember our chat with Rory and Chris at ArcTanGent festival. ArcTanGent—the promoter behind tonight’s show—is known for championing artists who truly care about their music and their community, and these two embody that spirit completely. When you speak with them, it’s clear that their love for the fans and their craft isn’t some put-on act. They’re humble, approachable, and genuinely thrilled to connect through their music. As BEAUTIFULUNIVERSEMASTERCHAMPION, “7 Billion People All Alive at Once,” and “Set Guitars to Kill” crash over this crowd, the band’s sincerity radiates from the stage. There’s no showy rock-star posing, just a sense of honest camaraderie—like they’re in it with us, not just for us.
As they leave, but the loops linger, that gentle hum of something still hangs in the air. Then they return for “Big Thinks Do Remarkable,” giving us one last shared moment before it’s time to head home. A few kind words, a nod to the holidays, and then Andy Williams’ “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” bursts out of the speakers. It’s a warm, playful sign-off that leaves everyone smiling into the December night. There’s a shared understanding as people file out: they haven’t just seen a performance; they’ve witnessed a conversation—a heartfelt exchange that’ll linger long after the stage lights go dark.
