On one unseasonably warm Saturday in March we found ourselves at Troxy in London seeing The Voidz for the first time, a band that haven’t played in the UK since 2018. They’re one of our favourites, so it’s safe to say we were very much looking forward to it.
The show started at 7:30pm with support act Ebbb, a London based trio known for their genre blurring sound, mixing electronic production with haunting melodies and ethereal vocals. Frontman Will Rowland’s falsetto added an almost spiritual quality to their set, at times making us feel as though we were at some kind of surreal church service.
Once Ebbb finished their set we were left with not just your usual preshow playlist, but a screening of bizarre cartoons. The first one followed the story of a frivolous man, an evil conjurer, and a potion that turns humans into animals (thanks Google lens for helping us find that because we did not understand a single thing that was happening at the time.) The second one showed a giant crab who seemed to eat everything in sight, including his own legs. Not sure I’d watch them again but I can’t say they didn’t fit the vibe.
Finally, it was time for The Voidz. Timing isn’t their strong point, but the set they delivered was worth the wait. They kicked off with their newest song, Blue Demon, a track that highlights their experimental style with hypnotic synths, distorted vocals and unpredictable rhythms. The track feels like a descent into a surreal, glitchy world, a perfect opener for them.
Afterwards they went straight into The Eternal Tao 2.0, then Prophecy of the Dragon. Everything was going swimmingly until this point. Something had been brewing next to us in the crowd, tension between fans, which ultimately escalated to the point one of our team had to duck to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of their punches. Julian, in classic Julian fashion, simply lowered his sunglasses to observe the fight and continued singing completely unbothered (there were security dealing with it so fair enough I suppose.) Once the song ended he checked if everyone was okay, and then told us stories of how he used to get into fights in the pit himself as he was perhaps a little bit of a rowdy concert goer.
The show carried on with the band powering through a few more hits, with occasional breaks as Julian spoke to the crowd. He did give us an excellent pointer for anyone wanting cool sunglasses – get them from the gas station, apparently, it’s the best place. About half an hour in it was time for 7 Horses, a song met with a great reaction from the crowd. It was at this point we started to see lots of movement with mosh pits opening up and the whole room jumping. Next up was Where No Eagles Fly, Overture, and my personal favourite, Did My Best.
In between songs, there were frequent requests for Human Sadness, to which Julian responded, “not today, you have to earn that one.” We can’t help but wonder what would need to be done for us to deserve to hear it, less fighting maybe? There was also a moment where Julian was clearly keen to show off his knowledge of Anglo Saxon England, as he reeled off names of kingdoms that have not existed for over a thousand years. I’m sure King Alfred the Great would’ve been thrilled to have The Voidz perform for him in Wessex.
The final part of the show saw the band play Square Wave, Johan Von Bronx and Pyramid of Bones, all met with unwavering excitement from the crowd. The band left the stage and chants of “one more song” erupted from fans not quite ready for the night to be over yet. Much to our delight, they did come back for an encore, wrapping the night up with Take Me In Your Arms and Dare I Care.
As the final notes rang out, the band left the stage, leaving the crowd buzzing from the sheer energy of it all. Their set was a perfect mix of chaos and artistry, blending raw intensity with moments of surreal humour. From unexpected history lessons to gas station fashion advice, Julian kept us on our toes just as much as the music did. The Voidz aren’t just a band, they’re an experience – unpredictable, unconventional, and entirely their own. And as for Human Sadness? Maybe one day, if we’ve earned it.