LIVE REVIEW + PHOTOS: KATE NASH AT THE ROUNDHOUSE, LONDON 19/03/26
Camden is the place to take in some of the best that the music scene has to offer, with everyone who's ever been anyone walking out on its many stages. This time it was the turn of Kate Nash who had a hungry audience of fans awaiting to consume her brilliance at The Roundhouse. The show itself was full of twists and turns, some expected, others not so much.
Support came from Bimini, who wasted absolutely no time in detonating any sense of gentle build-up. Self-described “electro cunt punk” blasted across the Roundhouse with enough force to make you immediately stand up and take notice.
It was chaotic, yes, but also tightly controlled, sharp, funny, and totally commanding. Tracks like ‘Tank Top Bum Boy’ landed somewhere between queer rave and performance art, with Bimini’s presence walking that perfect line between ridiculous and magnetic. The crowd didn’t need warming up after that, they were already there.
Kate Nash’s entrance couldn’t have been more different. A stage whisper, “Do you think they’re ready?”, before she and her band appeared, gathered low, opening with ‘Lullaby for an Insomniac’ so softly it felt like the entire room leaned in to catch it.
The arrangement slowly unfurled: a full band, a string section dressed in soft whites, and Nash at the centre in something like a dark fairy floaty, theatrical, but grounded by flashes of red stockings cutting through the aesthetic. It could have tipped into something overly staged, but it didn’t. There’s too much honesty in what she does for that.
From there, the set moved like her songwriting always has, between tenderness and fury, often without warning. ‘Millions of Heartbeats’ swelled beautifully; ‘I Hate Seagulls’ landed with that familiar bittersweet ache. Then, almost immediately, she flipped into something sharper, angrier, ‘Sister’ bristling with energy, Nash now strapped to a bass guitar, completely in control of the shift. That push and pull is where she’s always thrived.
One of the most striking moments came with ‘GERM’, part spoken-word, part rallying cry. Introduced as a feminist and trans ally anthem, it didn’t hedge or soften its message. This was direct, unapologetic, and entirely current: a rejection of exclusionary feminism, of performative allyship, of systems that claim to support while quietly undermining.
For anyone who didn’t know the words, they flashed up on the backdrop. The lighting sharpened, the drums pounded, and the room responded in kind. It’s rare to see something this explicitly political land so unanimously, but it did.
Then came a shift again, this time into something more reflective. Nash introduced what she described as her next single: a cover of Sinéad O’Connor’s ‘Famine’. Speaking about reconnecting with her Irish heritage, she brought out additional musicians, harp, bodhrán, accordion and what followed felt less like a gig and more like stepping into a different space entirely.
The arrangement was respectful but purposeful, allowing the weight of the song’s subject, colonial violence and reframed history to sit clearly. By the end, stripped back to traditional instruments and voices, with Nash on tin whistle, the Roundhouse briefly disappeared. It felt intimate, communal and somewhere far from Camden.
Of course, there were moments of pure release, too. ‘Dickhead’ hit exactly as it should, blunt, cathartic, shouted back at full volume by a crowd that clearly needed it. A run of early material, ‘Skeleton Song’, ‘Paris’, ‘Later On’ and ‘Mariella’ was delivered in a tight, efficient medley that reminded you just how many of these songs have quietly endured.
Then there was ‘Foundations’. Those opening piano chords still trigger something immediate. The roar of recognition, the collective memory kicking in, everyone inserting their own past into it. It’s witty, cutting, painfully relatable, and still lands exactly where it should. Some songs just don’t age.
By the time the encore rolled around, the atmosphere had shifted into something looser, celebratory. ‘Birds’ brought a playful Americana edge, before ‘Merry Happy’ closed the night in a burst of confetti, arm-waving chaos, and a keyboard very nearly sacrificed to the floor. Nash, grinning, hugged her band as they took their bow, the sense of camaraderie as strong as anything else on display.
What makes it all work is that none of it feels forced together. The newer material with its strings and more theatrical arrangements sits comfortably alongside the older songs without trying to outshine them or apologise for evolving. It’s cohesive because she is.
Kate Nash playing a sold-out Roundhouse in 2026 doesn’t arrive with a sense of triumphalism, but it does carry weight. Not the loud, industry-approved kind, but something quieter and more earned. This is an artist who’s taken the long route, through label issues, media nonsense, and the general attrition of staying visible without compromise and has come out the other side still entirely herself. No rebrand, no smoothing of edges. Just growth on her own terms. On Thursday night, that felt like the point.
Words by Cat Wiltshire
Photos by Florelle Servageon
