LIVE REVIEW: Thrice, Lysistrata, O2 Forum Kentish Town, London, 19/03/2026

Photo Credit: Kevin O’Sullivan

Thrice descended onto London’s Kentish Town in support of new album Horizons/West, with support from Lysistrata

If Thrice’s Horizons/East felt like a sunrise — all cautious optimism and light bleeding over the horizon — then Horizons/West, their twelfth studio album and its sister release, is unmistakably the comedown. Darker, heavier, and more introspective, the album, if anything, better reflects present day. Where East reached outward, West folds in on itself, watching the light disappear. But, while comparing the albums is interesting, comparing their live incarnations is something else entirely.

Though, before getting to the band of the evening, it’s first time for Lysistrata, the French post-hardcore trio making a not-insignificant leap from their last London appearance at the New Cross Inn in 2023 to the much larger stage of O2 Forum Kentish Town.

From the outset, it felt like drummer/vocalist Ben Amos Cooper’s world — his voice matching the sheer intensity of his sticks slamming into the kit. A gradually building instrumental intro detonated into Death By Embarrassment, immediately setting the tone: in a word, chaotic.

The band often hovered at the edges of the spotlight, guitars slashing through the mix while Cooper remained the focal point. Acid to the Burn showcased their dynamic range, dissolving into an almost shoegaze-like whisper before roaring back to life, while Boot on a Thistle was pure, unfiltered chaos — angst-ridden shouts and distorted, grunge-tinged guitars colliding in a riotously messy crescendo, capped by an extended instrumental breakdown that let the band truly cut loose.

Their sound felt like a weirdly dense stew — post-hardcore at its core, but threaded with punk urgency and noisy, experimental textures. And yet, for all its ferocity, the set closed on an unexpectedly subdued note with Mourn, ebbing and flowing like a dying machine struggling to power down before one final surge.

Yet, despite all of this, there still felt like there was something lacking throughout Lysistrata’s set. Some of it was due to a lacklustre reaction from the crowd, sure — a general placidity combined with a still lacking number of people — but the set never felt striking enough to be elevated from good to great. 7/10

The same can’t be said of Thrice. Last time the group were on these shores (discounting theThe Artist in the Ambulance anniversary run) was for a co-headline tour with Coheed and Cambria back in 2021. Then, they opened with the Horizons/East opener, The Color Of The Sky, a track that feels… inevitable, almost empirical in its approach, gentle reverb giving way to barely held panic. But through it all, it retains a sense of curiosity, warring with cautious optimism. And, in a similar fashion, 2026 sees the band start with Blackout, a track that at least initially is very tonally similar. But, as the anxiety and anger swirl in turmoil and begin to seep through, the cracks appear — as befitting the tour for the sister album, the set itself feels intimately similar, but as a photograph in negative is similar to an original. The same slow, atmospheric soundscape building as the band take their places, Dustin Kensrue’s voice barely above a whisper — worn, cracked, like it’s carrying the weight of everything that came before it — but then comes the shift: drums crash in, strobes fracture the darkness, and suddenly the room feels like it’s been dropped into the centre of a storm. Where The Color Of The Sky soared toward hope, Blackout sinks into something darker, angrier. If the east is sunrise, the west is the slow, inevitable pull of night.

Gnash continued that parallel, a spiritual counterpart to Scavengers, but far more violent — less wandering desert, more being thrown around in a maelstrom. The first pits of the night quickly broke open, tentative at first, then growing in confidence.

And then, strangely still following the same chronology, came The Artist in the Ambulance.

Two decades on, it hasn’t lost a step. If anything, it’s gained something — Kensrue’s deeper, more weathered voice lending the 20th anniversary version of the track a world-weariness that makes it hit even harder than it did in 2003. Hurricane meanwhile, wrapped the stage in light, Kensrue seemingly caged within beams as Teppei Teranishi’s backing vocals cutting through with aching clarity. Holding On, one of Horizons/West’s standouts, is fast, frantic — all urgency and forward momentum, even as the anthemic chorus screamed for a sing along — while Paper Tigers resurrects the band’s early post-hardcore bite, now tempered with just enough melody to give it a fresh emotional edge.

The Dark Glow and Still Life slowed things down, leaning into atmosphere, a metaphorical eye of the setlist. At its peak, Still Life felt strangely meditative, a cherished moment of calm amid the storm — but, whatever else, it was still a Thrice show. The Window gradually choked the tension taut again, building toward a simmering release… and, even if it wasn’t quite what you’d expect, it still somehow sparked some of the biggest pits of the night. The emotional, nostalgic Stare At The Sun might not be the obvious choice, but from the crowd screaming back every word, it felt a chaos borne beautifully from passion.

Crooked Shadows and In Exile swiftly followed, the former with a jittery, anxious energy — discordant bass and rigid guitar lines driving movement through the floor — and the latter, the sole representative from Beggars, driving the love for the band to a new fever pitch, before the group launched into the first Vheissu offering of the show.

Well, as much as you can launch into Of Dust and Nations anyway, with that addictive, haunting intro of piercing guitars and empty space. Then, Black Honey; a fantastic song and an easy crowd favourite, elevated simply by a little light show, the second verse a kaleidoscope on stage — shifting colours morphing into burning reds as the song simmered and snapped.

Albatross, a newer fan favourite, soared in contrast to Horizons/East’s carrion imagery, before Beyond the Pines stripped things back completely — Kensrue alone in the darkness, the absence of light almost as powerful as any spotlight.

Say what you want about 2018’s Palms, but you can’t deny that Beyond The Pines is still a breathtakingly beautiful ballad.

Robot Soft Exorcism and The Earth Will Shake rounded the set off, the former’s earnest pleas serving as a perfect blend of Teranishi’s mesmerising backing vocals and Kensrue’s husky croon, while the latter’s stomping, clapping rhythm reverberating through the crowd like a ritual. The set was so good, so adored by the crowd, that if the night had ended there it would have felt perfectly complete.

But apparently, and thankfully, that wasn’t enough for anyone.

First up, Vesper Light. Despite being the penultimate track from Horizons/West, it still feels like the true ending. Plus, it has everything you could want from a Thrice track: haunting falsetto from Dustin, atmospheric strings, a gradual build up into an erupting, all-consuming crescendo of anger, funky time signatures, a sense of shared pain and urgency, and a final gradual send-off, despondent vocals full of despair. Especially in the newer, more weary era of Thrice, it’s sublime.

And, finally, a dash of The Illusion Of Safety brought the night to a close. Good ol’ Deadbolt. Who doesn’t love some old Thrice goodness? Fast, frantic, furious, and fuelling one final, desperate heave from the crowd to burn any last lingering shreds of energy in one final maelstrom of movement. Just a shame you don’t get the delicate piano intro live too!

If there’s any complaint to be had from the night, it’s just that the band often felt shrouded in darkness, more silhouettes than individuals. Intentional, perhaps, but occasionally distancing. That, and the show was only twenty songs long. In the most blissful of ways, the crowd felt rabid — if the band had insisted on playing all twelve studio albums back to back, the room would have happily stood there for however many hours it would have taken.

Otherwise? As far as gigs go, you build them up in your head, and inevitably you’re likely going to be disappointed — maybe a favourite was left off the set, or the energy wasn’t there, or some other gripe. This, meanwhile, was everything you could hope for.

An effortlessly easy award of 10/10.

Written By: James O’Sullivan