LIVE FROM THE PIT: Mirador and Lady Of Mars

Islington Assembly Hall was already buzzing long before MIRADOR stepped onstage. Flags and homemade banners were draped over the barrier, waved by fans whose loyalties were split between GRETA VAN FLEET diehards and IDA MAE faithful. You could hear it in the anticipatory screams every time a roadie walked past a mic stand: this was a room full of people who had waited a long time to see what JAKE KISZKA and CHRIS TURPIN would create together. Their debut London show did not just meet the expectation, it set it alight.

But first came LADY OF MARS, London’s rising indie-rock outfit whose reputation has been steadily growing since festival season. They walked on with the self-assurance of a band who have worked the circuit hard, and it showed. Their emotionally charged vocals, driving beats, and that glint of late-seventies new wave swagger — landed effortlessly with the crowd. Their frontwoman steered the set with striking control, her voice climbing from smooth clarity into a raw edge that cracked right through the chatter. The guitar work was polished without being sterile, and the bass and drums kept everything tight enough to dance to but loose enough to feel alive. They left the stage to real cheers, not polite applause - not an easy feat in a room waiting for a brand new supergroup.

Once MIRADOR took their place, the lights dimmed to red haze, an atmosphere that fit the folklore-and-fire mythology surrounding the band. When KISZKA and TURPIN finally appeared, the room erupted — banners shot up, flags flew and fans screamed. Opening with Heels of the Hunt, they set the tone immediately: rich harmonies, storytelling energy, and an undercurrent of mysticism that felt both familiar and brand new. KISZKA’s vocals were surprising — warm, expressive, far more textured than anything fans might expect. Paired with TURPIN’s rasping soulfulness, the two voices created harmonies that hit like cold air down the spine. More than once the room fell utterly still, caught in those moments where their voices hung in the air with no ornamentation, nothing but the quiet breath between notes. It was the kind of silence bands dream of earning.

The tranquility was soon shattered as KISZKA tore into the first searing guitar break of the night. It came like a bolt, ripping the stillness into shreds as Raider hit with stomping blues-rock force. This became the heartbeat of the evening: the swing between entrancement and eruption. One minute you were lost in harmony, the next you were pulled back into earthly reality by a riff so sharp it made the venue tremble. A fourty-five minute long album stretched into a two-hour set might sound ambitious, but this is where MIRADOR truly showed who they are. Instead of padding time, they expanded songs into long, immersive journeys. Each member took their moment to stretch out and show what they were capable of. MIKEY SORBELLO’s drumming was a masterclass in instinct — sharp, precise, driving the momentum without ever overwhelming it. He played with the confidence of someone who knows exactly when to pull back and when to let loose. NICK PINI flipped effortlessly between bass and keys, adding depth and colour to every track; sometimes warm and earthy, sometimes spectral, sometimes pulsing enough to feel through your ribs.

During Feels Like Gold and Roving Blade, the crowd sang along with an enthusiasm usually reserved for bands several albums deep into their careers. The banners, waving to the rhythm, catching the stage lights. After a swift costume change they began Fortunes Fate. The room had settled into a steady sway. Fans mouthing every word as if reciting some shared folklore they all somehow knew. The emotional core of the evening came with Must I Go Bound, where everything dropped to near silence. The harmonies were devastatingly delicate, exposed, and so perfectly blended that it felt like a single voice split in two. You could feel the entire hall holding its breath. Then, inevitably, the spell broke: KISZKA stepped forward and unleashed a guitar passage that snapped the room awake again, a surge of electricity running through the crowd.

The back half of the set leaned heavier into blues and rock theatrics. Blood and Custard arrived thick and heavy. Ashes to Earth built momentum piece by piece until it exploded and the closer, Skyway Drifter, hit with the weight of a band announcing their arrival and their promise. Throughout all of it, MIRADOR played with a sense of purpose: not a nostalgia act, not an indulgent side project, but a band with its own world.

They conjured something that felt both ancient and fresh -  through blues rock, folk storytelling, and modern rock urgency.

As the final notes faded, the crowd erupted again as the stage bathed in a haunting blue mist. Two hours of grit, grace, silence, thunder, and the kind of musical chemistry that feels almost dangerous. MIRADOR’s first London headline was not just a debut. It was a statement. And the message was clear: they are not borrowing the past. They are building something new.

Words and Photos: Evelyn Webb