A review of Girl Tones at O2 Academy Brixton as if they were a wine, because why not?

At first sip, Girl Tones hits the palate with an unfiltered burst of raw energy—zesty, unpredictable, and unapologetically youthful. This is not a polished vintage; rather, it’s the kind of rebellious table wine that stains your lips and lingers just long enough to make an impression.

But it hasn’t always been this way. Originally trained to blend classical flavours, Girl Tones was previously enjoyed by the bourgeoisie. It wasn’t until they got tired of being sipped by the glass that they took a hard left, dropped any subtleties, and started producing to be downed by the bottle.

Now, the nose is bright and slightly chaotic, with notes of garage-born distortion and tangy vocal harmonies that dance somewhere between playful and melancholic. There’s so much overdrive that the dial has done a full loop and returned to two. It has an undeniable pizzazz, a fizzy undercurrent of DIY spirit, though at times it teeters on the edge of Mentos in Coke.

Amplified through its exhibition at O2 Brixton last night, what was usually savoured in small, intimate settings is now thumping through a supercharged sound system and causing the fun kind of havoc.

Mid-palate, the experience is complex. Beneath the harsh fuzz, there’s an unexpected depth—hints of nostalgia, subtle sweetness in the melodies, and a lingering bite of punkish irreverence. It may not be for everyone, but those with a taste for the unconventional will find themselves pouring another glass, drawn in by its rough-around-the-edges charm.

The finish? A little abrupt, maybe even messy—and that’s exactly why it works. Girl Tones isn’t here to age in oak barrels; it’s meant to be enjoyed in the moment, loud and unrestrained. It’s the one that features most frequently at parties. Best served live, in dimly lit venues, with good company and zero pretence.

See Also

An unexpectedly rowdy night with Bombay Bicycle Club at Pryzm, Kingston

Girl Tones is heavily endorsed by Cage the Elephant, and for some reason, I’d trust their opinion.

Would I recommend it? If you like your music like a violent but strangely addictive bottle of wine—absolutely.