Music, at its core, is about connection. It’s the song that gets your heart racing before another day at the rat race. The track that helps you unpack your emotions. Or, the number that simply chills you the F out. At its best, it can shift your mood entirely.
In 2024, I caught Pem supporting W.H. Lung and saw first-hand how easily her nature-inspired songs could silence a room. She recently spoke to CONE about how her work as a gardener—and the rhythms of the seasons—shape the music she writes. So, with genuine excitement, I made the trek to see her first headline tour on home turf at a sold-out show at The Louisiana.
Before the main event, the night opened with an impressive supporting set from Bristol-based folk-grunge band Dogsbody, led by frontwoman Mimi Jones. Guided by Jones’s soulful vocals and tender fingerpicked guitar, the band folded cello, bass, violin, and some fantastic drum work into its sound. At times, xylophone and tambourine appeared while the kit was still being played with the other hand. It was a setup that could’ve easily felt busy in lesser hands, yet here everything came together with intent.
There were echoes of Jeff Buckley’s Grace in places, and even shades of Black Country, New Road. Like any good music, though, their sound resisted easy description. It sits somewhere between passionate ’90s alt-rock and the looser, jazz-leaning tendencies that have crept into many of the more interesting indie acts of the past five years. When everything clicked, Dogsbody looked like a band screaming for a bigger stage. They are 100 percent ones to watch.
By the time they finished, the small room—a space that had hosted many legends and long-lost local bands—was jam-packed. One misstep, and I might have tumbled over the PA. Watching the performance unfold from such close range felt almost unbearable. I didn’t quite know where to look and the intimacy of what followed, played out at barely an arm’s length away, was nearly too much for an Englishman.
Backed by some fantastic cello along with keys, more creative drumming, and solid bass, Pem and her band began to reveal the delicate world of her music.
Throughout the set, she performed tracks from the exquisite EP Other Ways of Landing, alongside material from the previous release Cloud Work and a few other favorites. From the very first note, the audience fell completely silent, unsure if or when to applaud—or even if they should clap at all, for fear of breaking the spell.
Pem and her band wove a truly engrossing sound, switching seamlessly between a cream Telecaster, a nylon electro-acoustic, and keys. Field recordings and gentle synth textures quietly layered the songs, creating an atmosphere more like a landscape than a conventional gig.
It was refreshing to hear a healthy dose of guitar pedals used tastefully. They helped craft songs that felt layered and wistful, yet still fragile and delicate. Every element sounded deeply considered, never forced. Organic rather than overworked. Being so close to the stage only added to it. The room appeared so still that even the smallest movement drew attention. It was the kind of show that demanded complete focus and rewarded it in return.
There was something else at play, though. In a world that often feels more than a little mad, Pem’s music landed like a balm. Her songs felt like quiet reminders to slow down, to stick our hands in the soil, look up at the sky, find solace, or perhaps a small reset.
It was striking how much she has grown as a performer in just two years since I last saw her. Her confidence remained understated, but the control she displayed suggested an artist steadily sharpening her craft.
By the set’s end, Pem had made one thing clear: there is only one direction she is heading. She is shaping up to be one of the most exciting, singular, and emotionally affecting artists coming out of Bristol in a long time.
As the night wound down and fans filtered out of the venue, CONE photographer Rhys Dolman found himself face to face with Pem’s mother, who was beaming with pride. When asked what she thought of the performance, a little lost for words, she offered just one: “Incredible”
Truer words have rarely been spoken.