I was availed a brief chat backstage with Rooted, and where other writers would be ready to pounce, we gleefully exchanged tales of Ubers losing their minds, nepotism, out of control moshpits and comparing our war wounds. We cynically agreed on the fact that we should be grateful for the exposure we will be dining out on later.
Let me explain it to you with crayons,
THE GRASSROOTS IS NOT A COMMODITY.
Music is very close to my heart, it is a living, breathing organism that can see our souls before we can even begin to chronicle and elucidate. I cannot bear to see the abuse, disrespect, inequality that we face today. These bands dispense pleasure, a veritable treatment and tonic for mental health, music lifts us, it knows what life has done to us and it never leaves us. I’d say that is a great starting point to regaining some composure in our desiccated fuselage.
So, with drinks imbibed (I’ll have a Miller Lite hahaha…) it’s on with the show. Rooted are Lily – vocals/guitar, Ethan – lead guitar, Gemma – bass and Joe on drums, together they are a bunch of uproarious urchins, a quartet of quibbling alley cats emerging from Birmingham’s infamous potholes, and now even more infamous dustbin bags. Their unholy racket, and riotous rhythms send us ‘Spiralling Out’ of the mosh and spinning around like unhinged, glitching wind-up toys. Watching Rooted reminded me of The Muffs, I never got to see them sadly, but Kim Shattuck, is an inconsolable loss to the industry.
The gentle, shimmery tones of ‘Moth Song’ are evidence that Lily is capable of delivering a variety of vocal styles, from the shouty, angry bastard noises to the delicate fairy cake morsels thrown into the crowd for your enjoyment.
Tonight, it is evident that these bands provide a complete show, their onstage banter and antics are not perfunctory, there is a real necessity for them to create and a necessary for us to receive. The next generation of talent is unafraid to mix a variety of styles, it has been a night of funky, grungy fusion, served with a confident, competent and convivial clarity.
We now have the modern soundtrack to throw your TV out of the window to and to prank call people and play ‘Supersonic’ down the phone.
It should have been peaky fuckin’ blindingly obvious that I should find the heirs of
Milk Teeth right here in Birmingham. For all you Milkybois out there, of which I am one, rest your weary bodies and raise your goblets of ‘Fairy Milk’ – we are home.
I will leave you with this thought for the night, what is your definition of a caffeine perv?
Answers on a postcard please, for the attention of Andrew Miller.
Azra Pathan
Rooted – 3rd October 2025, Rock of Ages Showcase, O2 Academy 3, Birmingham
Caveat – please don’t prank call people. Thank you.