Last week, Welly returned to The Bodega with more banging tunes, bigger moshpits and a sky full of bubbles. Walking out to the tune of The Macarena, Welly promises a night defined by character and charisma, with songs charged with social commentary to a soundtrack that inspired endless moshpits...
Inspired by suburban boredom, disco rhythms and Britpop observation, Welly fill the floor with their opener Big in the Suburbs, the title track from their debut album released in March 2025, which sees the crowd pogo-ing throughout the chorus. Despite its upbeat energy, the song invites an almost philosophical experience, depicting an image of a life many of us can relate to, a destiny we are doomed to repeat despite our desire to change, an ouroboros (the ancient symbol depicting a snake eating its own tail) of existence.
Layers unravel on a second listen, writing the confetti cannon explosion of a night up at home, because of course, one of the best ways to escape the cycle is to spend a Thursday night revelling, a quiet rebellion against the 9-5.
The moshing continues, spurred on by bassist Jacob Whitear, who leaps into the crowd, instrument in hand, jumping along with the beat as the first few chords of Soak Up the Culture blast out from the stage. A banger that heralds Brits abroad with a satirical prowess that sums up the vain need to fit in without realising they have become the very caricature they have wished to escape from.
Being fortunate enough to see Welly back in February, I noticed a lot of familiar faces among new people in the crowd, a testament to the talent that Welly possess. You go to Welly for the anthemic energy and stay for the social commentary from frontman Elliot Hall, who, between songs, captivates the crowds not with chords or lyricism but with witty observations that create a connection in the room. The band may hail from miles away in Southampton, but in those moments of conversation, they feel like a local band playing to a room of mates.
Despite being halfway through their tour, the band remains on high energy. Hall entertains with his anecdotes. He admits with a grin, “I was very late arriving today, so the background you see was actually meant to show something daft. Tonight, Nottingham, we were going to perform in front of number 5 cheddar from Tesco, or maybe Sainsbury's, the finest one, the one that comes in the purple packaging.”
The crowd love it, shouting back that it wasn’t allowed because it would be "too niche", “too cheesy”...
“We were also hoping to have a photo of Jeremy Clarkson smoking, but hey, maybe it wasn’t funny enough.”
Suddenly, the TikTok viral "Jet 2 Holidays" audio blasts from the speakers, causing an eruption of laughter and creating the perfect segue for Hall to say, ‘Can anyone count to four in French?’... spoiler alert, the crowd can’t, but it doesn't matter as Not Like This in France floods the floor.
Again, bassist Whitear parts the crowd into two moshing entities as he threads himself in and out, still playing his bass, occasionally throwing himself into the throes of the undulating beast of the crowd.
“This is our Creep, we play this for you”, Hall announces. Despite the explosive energy from the crowd throughout the night so far, when the first note of Shopping plays it becomes clear to us that we were holding back because a foot does not touch the floor for the entire song.
Then comes the distinctive sound of the cowbell, eccentric, infectious and impossible not to move to. It is the sound of Welly distilled, brought to life by keyboardist Hanna Witkamp as she spins through the crowd, introducing Home for the Weekend. With rolling guitar riffs, from Matt Gleeson and Joe Holden-Brown, and synthy melodies, this song is evocative of a road trip with your mates coming home from a long term at Uni. Welly’s songs bristle with satire, loaded with sharp wit and observational humour. They’re clever, chaotic, and full of heart. This is a band that is going to be big.
To introduce Roundabout Racehorse, the band transforms grown adults into galloping horses thundering on The Bodega’s floorboards. The work day is long forgotten as we canter through the chorus, with air lassos and faces full of laughter and lyrics. The strangulation of suburbia really hits with the repeated, anguished "I can’t" in the final verse. Beneath the gritty guitar and deceptive upbeat sound, there is an undercurrent of panic, which would almost feel unsettling if it weren't for the release of the mosh pit. It’s catharsis through noise, a song that becomes a metaphor for escaping the very life it laments.
Cul de Sac follows in a similar vein. Its very bouncy, blur-esque beat makes the floor feel elastic underfoot, as though the very power Welly holds is transformative. Their setlist means it is no longer a windy Thursday in the middle of autumn, it's a party with worries left down the road. While Welly take inspiration from the mundanity of normality, the monotony of everyday life seeps through its verses, only to be flipped on its head. The beat, rhythm and execution of lyrics combine to form a manifesto for how to survive the blank stare of the office cubicle: Dance, sing, share a song with a stranger and make a friend.
Inviting opening acts, Your Mate's Ex and Vincent’s Last Summer on stage with them, Welly perform the closing song of the night, the effervescent Me and Your Mates. Showering the crowd with bubble guns as the band weave their way through the pit for one final mosh of the night. Welly has the sort of power that extends its arm to the crowd; there is no stage, just a dance floor and each footfall from a powerful pogo, each hoarse-throat belted lyric, and each dance move delivered allows us to be an additional instrument in Welly’s repertoire.
During a life-affirming Welly set you feel infinite.
Hall may have joked that ‘every band that plays the Bodega twice plays it once on the way up and then once on the ... well, never mind’. But there is no coming down from a Welly high. If they can make a Thursday night feel like a perpetual Saturday in summer, then I hope they return to intimate venues like The Bodega for several years, although I am sure they will be taking tours like this one to much bigger stages soon enough.
Welly performed at The Bodega on 9th October 2025, with support from Your Mate's Ex and Vincent’s Last Summer (photos further below).
Below: Your Mate's Ex
Below: Vincent's Last Summer
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