Gig Review: ‘Friends Crush’ Curated By Squid
2 February 2024
I’m the only one in the room who doesn’t know all the words. The floor is trembling underfoot; my ribcage is pressed against the stage as a mosh pit swells and forms behind me, building in time with the music in that mildly threatening, mostly intoxicating way. CHALK, a nightclub tucked away in coastal Brighton’s charming, seashell-strewn streets, is hosting Lime Garden for their final stop on their first-ever headline tour—and more notably—their hometown show. Less than a month ago, they released their debut album, One More Thing, and dedicated fans have already adopted the record, screaming each lyric without missing a beat. It is an impressive, surely rewarding response.
Comprised of vocalist Chloe Howard, guitarist Leila Deely, bassist Tippi Morgan, and drummer Annabel Whittle, Lime Garden are a beacon of experimental indie-rock
irreverence in an age where confessional, acoustic songwriting has taken a front seat. Throughout the set, the band continuously amp up their own energy, encouraging the crowd to join them, resulting in a high voltage show that blurs the line between performance and audience, providers and receivers. One More Thing is a record that demands to be experienced live, in a mass of equally enthused people, in order to capture the full effect of Lime Garden. They are self-reflexive, witty, and undeniably cool, but they defy inaccessibility. “Pop Star,” a self-reflexive earworm lamenting the struggles of band life, opens with a line about an eczema flare-up. Howard introduces “Nepotism (baby)” as “a song about wanting to be Kate Moss’ daughter” — “To be the it girl is to be it,” she sings, “And that’s what I plan to do / To have a face like an angel / With enough money to do whatever the fuck it is they do.” That last line should be written in all caps for accuracy, as the Brighton crowd screams it in a flurry of raised hands and thrashing heads.
That’s not to say Lime Garden are without their moments of genuine pathos. During “It,” a brief but hard-hitting breakup track, the energy in the room reduces to a steady hum. Howard promises that after this one, we can go back to the fun stuff, which makes this glimpse of vulnerability all the more poignant. “It” is a song about accepting the loss of a lover, and the version of yourself that you were with that person, both people you will never see again. “I accept I’m on my own / That I can run, that I can hold / But don’t you feel like it’s seventeen? / You had it all but now it’s real / It feels like you lost the deal.” The mosh pit transforms into a swaying mass of heads on shoulders, hands wrapped in hands. The refrain of “It” echoes as a message to Howard’s ex, but also to us: “Don’t go, just stay / Don’t go, just stay for another.”
Stay for another we do. As promised, Lime Garden launch into a dizzying encore of fan favorites, including 2021’s “Pulp,” before throwing it all the way back to their debut
single, “Surf n’ Turf.” At this point, the show seems like it could be taking place in a garage, or a basement—despite their success, Lime Garden are ultimately a group of friends playing to hundreds of friends. Whether you’re familiar with them or not, you’re treated like one of their own for the night.
This feeling of camaraderie continues well after CHALK shuts off its lights and closes its doors. The party transitions to The Green Door Store, a music club hidden beneath the Brighton Railway Station where Lime Garden clubbed in their university days and are returning to host a post-show DJ set. I am surrounded by some of the best-dressed university kids I’ve ever seen; it’s a case study in experimental alternative fashion, makeup, and presentation, and exactly the kind of crowd you’d expect to appreciate clubbing to the likes of MGMT’s “Time to Pretend” and Big Thief’s “Vampire Empire.” I’m particularly delighted to scream along to Radiohead’s “Jigsaw Falling into Place,” trying hard to act nonchalant about the fact that Lime Garden’s Chloe Howard is dancing just a few people away from me. It is this casual, fun connection between the band and their fans that stands out to me most—they’re steadily reaching pop star status, sure, but they are not above partying alongside the same people who were just reaching toward them from the audience of a sold-out headline show. Lime Garden have created a soundscape that feels like a nightclub you never want to leave, for all its drama, for all its ecstasy.
The next morning, while purchasing a copy of One More Thing from Resident Music, I look up to realize the person selling me the CD is a member of the opening band from last night. We smile in recognition and I leave the store, somewhat enamored with the close-knit familiarity of Brighton—the person I cheered on last night is back to work in the morning, selling me the headliner’s music, all within reach. Don’t go, the city urges, even as I’m boarding the National Express coach back to London: Don’t go, just stay for another.