If the final night of CityFolk was supposed to go quietly into the September night, somebody forgot to tell the bands. For me, Night Five was the best night of the festival, with every act bringing some serious punch.
Local four-piece Steady Rain had the unenviable job of getting things started, but they immediately proved to be a very pleasant surprise. Fronted by Marlayah “Miss” McLeod, they looked the part, sounded great and commanded the stage with the confidence of a band that already has a loyal following. The band has built a following through both originals and inventive covers, and after this performance, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them go far.
Next up were Essex punk rockers Bad Nerves, billed as the bastard child of the Ramones and the Strokes. The description may sound like marketing hyperbole, but they looked the part and sounded incredible. Their only misstep was admonishing the crowd for not being energetic enough. Gentle reminder: you’re one of the first bands playing at a folk festival, not headlining Glastonbury. Still, I suppose the attitude comes with the territory—and I’d happily pay to see them again.
Cardiff’s Panic Shack brought an entirely different kind of punk energy. The Welsh flag waving in the audience was a dead giveaway that their home crowd had travelled with them. The mostly female band formed as a response to the male-dominated, “members-only club” atmosphere they saw in indie and punk scenes, and they delivered that message with zero apologies. They could have been playing CBGB rather than a festival tent, and my inner feminist was delighted to watch them strut their stuff exactly as they pleased.
Then came the Sex Pistols. With original members Steve Jones, Paul Cook and Glen Matlock joined by Frank Carter on vocals, the band has lost none of its ability to rile up a crowd. Carter seemed genuinely thrilled to be sharing a stage with punk icons one minute and was in the audience demanding a circle pit the next. His vocals blended in seamlessly and the fans loved it when he jumped into the crowd and demanded a circle pit.
Amigo the Devil filled the tent to the brim and set the stage with a backdrop of kittens to accompany his dark, murderfolk songs. They are not for the faint of heart, but Danny Kiranos has a remarkable way with words—like a bloodier, darker young Tom Petty. A longtime favorite of mine and my husband, he could have played all night and I’ll admit that we listened to more of his music on the way home in the car.
And then came the spectacle: Alice Cooper. At 78, he still delivered the full shock-rock experience, sounding terrific while tearing through “I’m Eighteen,” “No More Mr. Nice Guy” and “Poison.” The fans, who had come dressed the part, couldn’t get enough.
What a way to close CityFolk 2026. Five nights, a new home, plenty of musical surprises—and a finale that left us already wondering what next year’s lineup will bring.
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