For Independent Venue Week – the annual celebration of grassroots music instigated by Sybil Bell in 2014 – everything feels distinctly elevated. The artists, promoters, audience, venues and even the media all make that extra bit of effort to put out in their best finery.
IVW in the Calder Valley is no exception. This year, The Grayston Unity hosted a sold-out show by hugely likeable indie-modernists Pale Blue Eyes. Over at The Golden Lion, Dark Matter Promotions ensnared big-hitters Jah Wobble and Ian Brown-collaborator, Aziz Ibrahim. And The Puzzle’s typically diverse offering included jazz quintet Panjumby and the dark-art indie-rock of Midnight Gallery.
Meanwhile, The Trades Club threw a good proportion of its eggs into the basket of one man in particular – that of Antony Szmierek. Inbetween shows by Scott Lavene and Insecure Men, Antony played two sell-out nights at The Trades that will live long in the memory.
We were there for the Friday.
Szmierek’s rise to fame has been rapid. His 2023 single, The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Fallacy, got the wheels in motion, proving an instant hit with the schedulers at 6Music and Radio1. His stock was suddenly raised and a bunch of festival appearances soon followed.
The 2025 debut album Service Station at the End of the Universe, a rich narrative affair blending spoken word, indie-hip hop and danceable beats, confirmed his star quality. Early reviews described his fresh, inventive wordsmithery as “Mike Skinner spliced with Simon Armitage” and “John Cooper Clarke in the Hacienda”.
But it’s the live shows that have really exploded his reputation. Each Antony Szmierek gig feels like a communal event, a coming together, an exclusive-yet-inclusive moment in time.
At The Trades he connects with the front row within seconds of taking to the stage, holding outstretched hands, waving to acknowledge those out of reach. Before long he’s in the crowd, embraced by and embracing strangers like they were old friends at a reunion.
It’s a throwback to an old adage, but he knows how to ‘work the room’. That’s not to suggest this is in any way glossy, fabricated showmanship. It’s genuine, heartfelt stuff. You get plush arrangements but you get the odd glitch or false start too. And plenty of off-cuff banter. It’s all part of the charm.
Backed by a tight, efficient three-piece band, Szmierek is committed. Sweat and love pour out. Gratitude given and received. His mix of high-energy, slick lyricism and soulful choruses provide the tempo-shifts that keep the room engaged.
The set, too, is as crowd-pleasing as you could hope for. The bulk of the album is covered, the major chorus-friendly hits positioned for maximum effect, Yoga Teacher being the prime example. Third track in, it signals lift off. To end the night, a trio of encores offer a swell of varied emotions – Restless Leg Syndrome, Crashing Up and The Words to Auld Lang Syne.
There are few performers who can make such deep connections quite as effortlessly and instantly as this. Much like The Streets’ classic Weak Become Heroes had that magical ability to transport you back to your greatest hedonistic club triumphs, a Szmierek show uncannily creates a communal sense of clubland positivity and warmth, gently coaxing strangers towards one another over a rising, inexplicable wave of joy. It’s feelgood. It’s heart-warming. It’s a party. It’s hope.
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