Review: The Covasettes @ The Fleece

By Anastasia Baker, Music Subeditor

It’s Wednesday, and though for students that means a guaranteed night out (sports social then La Rocca, anyone?) the crowd that have packed themselves into The Fleece probably don’t usually spend midweek moshing with (and consequently drenching with cider) The Covasettes’ lead singer Chris Buxton. 

A nice change, then: the band’s arrival is precluded by a good chunk of Mr Brightside until they burst into sight to the dreamy strummer ‘Watching You’, a single from their upcoming debut album Honeymoon Forever. The sound is glitzy and polished, made whole by a perpetual backdrop of synth; their brightness is reminiscent of sun-soaked festival days, not just being soaked. 

Next, a foray back into 2023 with 'Duvet Thief'. The sheer energy of the track is at odds with its not-so-smiley lyrics: 'Reach out to touch you/And realise you're no longer there.' Clearly, the band is not afraid to inject their music and the show itself with real emotion; later, Chris casually mentions drummer Matt has 'just' been through a break-up. Although brought up lightly and met with laughs, there's something to be said about these larger-than-life indie tunes as a medium of sonic optimism through which you can do some understated lyrical introspection.

Their performance is optimism through and through, though: by the end of the second song Chris is chatting to us just as casually as if we, too, joined the band trip to The Courtrooms for a £3.50 pint of Guinness before the gig. It's refreshing (though there's the occasional bit of crowd work akin to a 'put your hands together', but maybe I'm just cynical) to be spoken to in this way. What we're watching is a hard-working band grafting their way towards making this their career indefinitely.

However, it almost comes as a surprise that Honeymoon Forever will be their debut. They feel relatively well-established in performance, these curated comedic breaks still maintaining a sense of spontaneity. When covering The Verve's 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' their technical ability shines: newest member (very very new, having joined in late January), mainly keyboardist Lizzie Wenninger takes to the violin, and levels up the song. It's no wonder sporadic chants of 'Lizzie, Lizzie!' ensue; Chris wonders aloud why he's never had this privilege.

No doubt the crowd have rallied fully behind the band within a handful of songs. This is particularly evident with the stripped-down track 'She Is', the band's failed entry to perform at Glastonbury back in the day which is being played, apparently, for the last time here. Feeling honoured.

It's all just really wholesome; at one point Chris points out an audience member, seven-year-old Harrison - this gig is his first. Not a bad start for sure. Although the songs have a tendency to blend into one another, becoming a slew of choruses that would be right at home on a Fifa soundtrack, this isn't necessarily a bad thing: what you see is what you get with The Covasettes.

Their self-promo is probably the most endearing and persuasive I've ever seen - a guy in a cow onesie is unarguably commitment to the bit - and I almost, almost get some merch because it's just so pretty.

In conclusion, the set is seamless, the singing and laughter abundant, the energy undeniable. What The Covasettes can't quite reach in 'uniqueness' they make up for in passion.

Will you be seeing The Covasettes on their 2026 tour?