We arrived at this year’s Gigantic All Dayer with that familiar mix of anticipation and mild disbelief that we’re all still doing this — still chasing the same bands, still shouting the same choruses, still pretending our knees aren’t quietly plotting against us. But stepping into The Prospect Building for the first time, it was immediately clear that Gigantic had found itself a proper new home. Bigger rooms, better flow, proper outdoor seating, and a real ale selection that could easily derail the day before the first chord was struck.
The courtyard was already buzzing — pints in hand, people comparing notes on who they were most excited to see, the smell of street food drifting across the space. It felt relaxed, friendly, and full of promise. The kind of place where we could easily lose half an hour just chatting and sampling the superb choice of ales before remembering there’s actually music happening.
CUD were the perfect way to kick things off. They bounded onstage with that chaotic charm they’ve always had, launching straight into Purple Love Balloon and instantly waking the room up. What followed was a gloriously loose, joyful sprint through their catalogue — the kind of set where you don’t need to know every song to feel completely involved. The crowd were already shouting along by the time they hit the first big sing-along of the day, and the closing run left everyone grinning. CUD don’t so much open a festival as detonate it.
The House of Love followed, shifting the atmosphere into something deeper and more textured. They opened with Cruel, its slow build pulling the room in, and from there the set unfolded with a kind of shimmering confidence. The band sounded rich and warm, each song landing with emotional weight. I Don’t Know Why I Love You felt especially powerful, and the closing stretch — including Christine and Shine On — created one of those rare festival moments where the room seems to collectively soften. They finished with Love in a Car, leaving a hush behind them. A beautifully judged set that reminded everyone just how timeless their catalogue is.
The Bluetones picked the energy back up with effortless charm, and a lot of that came down to Mark Morriss, who was in one of those moods where every bit of between-song chat landed perfectly. He has that dry, slightly mischievous delivery that makes even the throwaway lines feel like part of the show — little riffs about the venue, the crowd, the day, all delivered with the ease of someone who knows exactly how to keep a room smiling. They eased in with Bluetonic, sounding as fresh as ever, before rolling through a set full of melodic warmth and easy confidence. The crowd were fully on board by the time they reached Cut Some Rug, and Marblehead Johnson was a proper sing-along moment. Slight Return still hits like a burst of sunshine, and they closed with If…, leaving the room buzzing. It was the kind of set that made us remember just how many great songs they have tucked away — and how much personality Morriss brings to the whole thing.
Jim Bob arrived like a jolt of electricity, snapping the crowd back into sharp focus. Opening with A Song by Me, he moved quickly into a mix of Carter classics and newer material, all delivered with his trademark wit and bite. The room erupted for The Only Living Boy in New Cross, and the closing number brought the kind of cathartic punch only Jim Bob can deliver. Funny, furious, and full of heart — exactly what we want from him.
And then came the moment the whole day seemed to be building towards. By the time The Wonder Stuff took the stage, the outdoor bars were in full flow and the whole place had settled into that golden-hour glow that makes everything feel slightly magical. Even before the first note, there was a sense that this was going to be something special — and it was. They were, without question, our favourite band of the entire festival.
They came out swinging with Red Berry Joy Town, and from that moment on it felt like the room had been plugged directly into a power source. There was an urgency to them, a spark, the kind of energy that only comes when a band knows exactly who they are and exactly what their audience wants. And what this audience wanted — what we wanted — was Eight Legged Groove Machine in full flight.
Those songs were the heartbeat of the set. The moment they tore into the early material, the atmosphere shifted; when A Wish Away arrived, the place absolutely erupted. And then, almost without warning, a full-on moshpit kicked off — not the polite, nostalgic kind you sometimes see at these events, but a proper, swirling, eruption of bodies. It was chaotic, sweaty, ridiculous, and absolutely glorious. The kind of moment that makes you forget your age until the next morning reminds you sharply.
There’s something about those early tracks — raw, melodic, slightly unhinged — that still hits with the same force it did decades ago. It felt alive, vital, and completely joyous. The later favourites kept the momentum surging, but it was the Groove Machine material that lifted everything into another gear. Welcome to the Cheap Seats was a huge communal moment, Miles cheekily offered us the choice of whether we have to hear Size of Cow or not, we all shouted "NO", but they played it anyway, and then we all danced and sang along, oh the irony! They closed with Ten Trenches Deep, and by that point the entire room was moving as one — sweaty, ecstatic, and absolutely buzzing. Walking out afterwards, it was obvious: this was the set of the day. The Wonder Stuff didn’t just play well — they reminded everyone why they mattered in the first place. And for us, it was the Eight Legged Groove Machine material that sealed it. Those songs still feel like lightning.
Peter Hook & The Light closed the night with a set that felt monumental. After the Trans Europe Express intro, they tore into a run of Joy Division material that hit with real weight — Digital, Disorder, She’s Lost Control — each one landing like a pulse through the room. The New Order section was equally powerful, with Ceremony, Regret, and Crystal shimmering across the crowd. Blue Monday turned the room into a single moving mass, and Temptation felt like a celebration. They closed with Love Will Tear Us Apart, and for a moment the entire room seemed to breathe in unison. A perfect ending to a long, brilliant day.
Gigantic All Dayer 2026 wasn’t just a nostalgia trip. It was a reminder that these songs still matter, these bands still deliver, and this community — this ageing, joyful, chaotic indie tribe — is still very much alive. The Prospect Building proved to be the perfect new home: spacious, relaxed, full of great food and even better beer. We left tired, happy, slightly hoarse, and already thinking about next year.
