Antony Szmierek – Live Review – Leeds Stylus
By David Schuster, March 2025
Antony Szmierek is chuffed to bits. Even if he hadn’t said it, I’d have known. There’s joy and wonder written all over his face, as he takes in the adulation following his opening song of the night. It’s always great to see an artist early in their career, when all their hopes, dreams, late nights and sheer hard work have paid off. “I can’t believe that’s for us.” He says, referring to the barrage of cheers. “I keep looking round, expecting the Spice Girls to be behind me.” It’s clearly special for him, and that makes it special for us.
He’s got good reason to be happy. His debut LP The Service Station at the End of the Universe has gone straight into the official UK Dance Album Charts at number one, above Charli xcx’s phenomenally successful Brat. If you saw her scantily-clad form making off with five Brit awards, including Album of the Year, I’m sure you’ll agree that this is nothing short of miraculous. The hip-hop poet though, is the antithesis of her PR polished sexuality. He bounds on stage in green shell suit and white trainers, like a happy Labrador, his curly mullet and moustache give him the look of a Sacha Baron Cohen or Fast Show character, depending on your age.
“Characteristically well-observed”
The title track from The Service Station at the End of the Universe, is quickly followed with his first hit single, ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Fallacy’. It was this that very swiftly led to him being named as a BBC 6 Artist of the Year 2023, appearances at Glastonbury and on Later with Jools Holland. He’s had a spectacular rise to fame. For me, the third number of the evening, ‘The Great Pyramid of Stockport’ illustrates best what he does so well. The dry humour of the lyrics nicely capture the debilitated mood of the UK at the moment. “I’ve seen a pyramid. They built one in Stockport. A reincarnated insurance headquarters, now an Indian restaurant.” The clever word play is layered over a driving beat. It’s a juxtaposition that captures the attention, but about which he’s characteristically self-deprecating. “It’s amazing people want to listen to this, it’s just talking over a dance beat.” He declares, before adding wryly, “I can’t imagine there’s another song about an old insurance building that gets that reaction!”.
Szmierek is a natural performer, running through the gamut of rock star posturing, Freddie Mercury style, waving the mike stand, jumping on and off the front of stage monitors. But there’s always an endearing tongue-in-cheek to his actions. “I feel like Robbie Williams.” he declares, before launching into a surprise cover of ‘Feel’. “What?”, he asks the crowd. “I’ve been singing that at karaoke for years. You think I’m not going to do my best karaoke number now I’m up here?” The remainder of the set comprises the majority of the tracks from the album, including the latest single ‘Yoga Teacher’. It’s characteristically well-observed poem of infatuation, in the manner of early Billy Bragg when he focussed more on the human condition, rather than politics. “I don’t have any of those baggy pants, but he still loves me I’m sure of it. Catch his eye. My friends joke that I’ve come here just to meet someone and I deny it lyingly.” But, there’s always humour. “Don’t know what that sh*t is he’s burning, but it smells like home. Or church. We bow, I lurch forwards. Off balance or re-centring.”
“Middle of the frenzy”
The music is made for dancing. There’s a definite festival feel to the ecstatic crowd movement, with stage security passing reviving cups of water into the audience, something usually reserved for much larger gigs. At one point the singer jumps down and crowd surfs his way to the middle of the frenzy, for what he refers to as a ‘poetry mosh-pit’. I’ve never seen anything like it at a small venue, and I’m not alone. A complete stranger, spontaneously turns and says to me, “He’s incredible, isn’t he?”. Yes, yes he is.
The set is short and snappy, necessitated by the Stylus’ 10pm curfew, but there’s a well deserved three track encore. ‘Restless Leg Syndrome’ is much quieter, words taking the upper hand over a non-tuned industrial soundscape, the comparisons to John Cooper Clarke and Simon Armitage becoming much more obvious. The show finishes with a New Year’s Eve style countdown and Szmierek’s take on the hopes and fears that always reach a climax at that time, ‘The Words to Auld Lang Syne’: “Your hand half-holds mine and our fingers experimentally entwine. I really think we can do this, I think we’ve really got this this time.” It’s a unique end to a truly unique night.
images: David Schuster
David Schuster describes himself as an “adventurer, collector, musician and writer. Not necessarily in that order.” Growing up west of the Pennine hills of the UK and living his adult life east of them, he’s inclined to think that the Wars of the Roses were a mistake. David loves discovering new bands and musicians and is happiest listening to live music. He has travelled extensively in the UK and is fascinated by the variety, history and landscapes of the thousands of islands that comprise the British Isles. David is always reassured when online shops confirm that he’s not a robot.
