
The 2020s Irish Post-Punk Revival Hits Another Homerun
This was a bit of a last-minute call for me, but I always trust my instinct when it tells me to go somewhere – and catching Basht. live was definitively one of those moments where I was right. Their intimate gig at the iconic King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut cemented their place among the emerging Irish talent currently lighting up the post-punk scene.
The crowd was lively, buzzing with the early signs of a small but loyal following – fans already wearing the band’s T-shirts, singing along to every lyric, and queueing for autographs on their records. I couldn’t help but smile at the sea of Fontaines D.C. and Gurriers T-shirts in the crowd – a fitting backdrop that helped situate Basht. within the wider musical context of their country and generation. It’s not hard to imagine them opening for these more established acts one day; they share the same raw energy and soul-stirring, heartbreaking guitar music.
The performance was electrifying, holding the audience spellbound. Jack Leavey’s vulnerable and piercing vocals had the crowd silent during the most contemplative moments and buzzing with energy as each song reached its climax. He’s backed by a band of talented musicians who have more than earned their place among the most exciting young acts on the scene.
The setlist showcased a good chunk of their still-newish discography. Two clear standouts for me were Burn and Stockholm (I’ve admittedly been playing them on repeat since last night!). Both songs carry a sombre, searing quality that stayed with me from the very first listen.
It feels like a small claim to fame to have had the chance to photograph and witness these guys so early on in their journey. Everyone can sense a bright future ahead. It seems almost fated that they performed at King Tut’s of all venues – the names of iconic bands who have played there, printed on the stairs, felt like a metaphorical climb to stardom. And Basht are well on their way to earning a place among them.






















Article: Mona Montella