Our day at the truly magical festival, ft. Gong, Fuzz Lightyear, Formal Sppeedwear and more.

Serving up a plentiful banquet of eclectic alternative acts to groove-seeking Northwestern urbanites for twelve strong years now, Manchester Psych Fest has grown to become the ultimate showcase of a thriving music and creative culture taking place in the vibrant city. Branching out from the margins of psych music to include a stylistic assortment of artists (though still spotlighting the genre in a way that very few other UK festivals make space for), the 2025 edition bustles with exciting names, sprawled across a Greatest Hits assortment of Manchester’s ample live music spaces. We at Hard of Hearing felt that this was one we simply couldn’t miss, and with overpriced train tickets and a camera in tow, we ventured on a cross-country excursion, seeking desperately to be ingulfed by the purportedly humongous, immaculate vibes of Psych Fest.

Determined not to miss the early festival opening set from Gong, we heave our bleary-eyed selves onto an outrageously early train from London, arriving bright and early to converge with the vividly dressed throng of sprightly festivalgoers who all appear to have the same idea as us. Unsurprisingly, missing those few extra hours of sleep is a worthy sacrifice to witness the bristling psychonautic spectacle unleashed by the legendary outfit, who pack out the MPF stage at the O2 Ritz with winding queues out the doors. A multitudinous freakout of kaleidoscopic psych prog magic set against a fluctuation of lysergic visuals, Gong are on top form, positively bursting with an infectious energy that leaves us inspired and raring to go.

Onwards to the packed-out Sour Grapes stage over at the Deaf Institute to catch aptly named Fuzz Lightyear, Leeds’ freshest exports of DIY noise rock. The fresh-faced trio fire through a slinking, moody swamp of barebones dissonant fuzz, scheduled perhaps a little too early for the subdued early afternoon crowd to submit to the thrashes of a mosh pit.

Navigating the myriad of festival affiliated venues as a non-Manchester native proves a strain on our Google Maps app, but the thoughtfully designed layout of Psych Fest means that, bar a few exceptions, most venues are conveniently spaced only a few minutes apart. This means an easy transition to our next stop, the Oxford Road Corridor stage at Gorilla to see enigmatic London art rock group Famous. Clawing through a mildly disquieting, genre-bending rotation of disparate musical segments, lead singer Jack Merrett’s deadpan delivery and intermittent vaping contrasts mesmerizingly against guitarist Jojo Macari’s writhing kinesis of limbs. It almost feels like we’re watching karaoke at a late-night dive bar and a jaded, mysterious stranger just began unleashing hell on the mic.

After a much-needed energy refresh means we sadly miss Syd Minky-Sargeant’s debut solo performance, we head, suitably revived, over to FAC251 to catch the tail end of Zo Lief. Dishing out an understatedly sublime slice of ambrosial dream pop wonderment, the Netherlands via London duo possess a gentle and sweet aura, upheld even through a range of technical issues that impact the flow of their set.

Next on our agenda is The Moonlandingz, who perform in arguably one of the most unique settings at the festival, an outdoor industrial skate park area adorned with lots of pairs of trainers hanging from the ceiling. Crowds pile on top of the skate ramps to witness a spectacle of baffling, electro neo-psych extravagance that sees band leader Lias Saoudi and Jeanie Crystal (of Jeanie and the White Boys) run totally amok, squirming and slinking into one another with a highly entertaining brazenness and depravity. We are tempted to stay for more chaos, but alas Deary beckons us over at the Yes Pink Room. Lulling a quiet and captivated audience into celestial reverie, the London group unfurl their ineffable and ethereal shoegaze magic into the spacious low light of Pink Room.

Across the road and back to FAC251, seven-piece psychedelic cosmonauts Mandrake Handshake bring a lysergic fever of fractal grooves and heady freak outs, delivering one of their strongest ever performances to a warmed-up crowd chugging zealously on warm Stellas from plastic cups. Lead guitarist Row Janjuah even leaps into the pit during ‘Time Goes Up’, and the Oxford via London group’s infectiously hedonistic, sweaty elation sets the tone for the rest of our evening.

In a devastating turn of events that involves the Lass O’Gowrie pub and an ice-cold pint/ciggie pairing with friends, we sadly miss the chance to catch headliners Goat on the main stage. We do however pop in to catch a slither of W.H Lung back at the o2 Ritz, for an impassioned performance krauty synth rock glory, before rushing over to the Deaf Institute Main Hall for Montreal’s La Securité who we are excited to catch while they are back in the UK for their late summer Europe tour. They don’t disappoint, laying down a captivating flurry of punchy, off-kilter art punk that fizzes with vigour.

Luckily, this puts us at the front of the queue for firm Manchester favourites Formal Sppeedwear, who are performing downstairs on the Hot Take stage – so popular in fact that outrageously long queues outside mean some of our friends can’t get in. Once they get started, we can see why, and they quickly become a highlight of our day; urgent, complex basslines glide with effortless precision over a scintillation of angular new-wave grooves, surging with dexterity and eccentricity in equal measure. Rocking a ‘TTSSFU For President’ shirt, bassist and lead vocalist Beck Clewlow suffers a string snap early on, but this appears to make no difference to the low-key face melting that we suffer due to the sheer hugeness of it all. The attendees at Formal Sppeedwear seem to represent the beating heart of the Manchester music scene too, with members of Westside Cowboy and Yaang forming part of the enthusiastic crowd.

Suitably inebriated for our last stop of the night, we wait patiently under the dim lights of Yes Pink Room for word-of-mouth must sees SILVERWINGKILLER to fix technical issues with their on-stage monitors. Pent up frustrations pave the way for a frenzied, rip-roaring performance of pumping, wonky experimental electro punk that ebbs and flows between grooves, vocals shrieked in a mix of English and Mandarin Chinese. A surprisingly eclectic and dynamic set for such a sparse instrumental set up, the unconventional duo feed ample vigour to the footloose crowd who flock to the dancefloor for one last untethering of their inhibitions.

Now en route to rest our weary heads, we take a final detour to the nearest chips and gravy merchant to replenish ourselves after an intense final few hours of letting loose. We leave Psych Fest exhausted, elated and incredibly grateful to attend festivities such as these – providing both a lifeline to UK grassroots music and a mainline to some of the most impressive touring acts on the circuit right now, the vibrancy and free-spirited magic of Psych Fest cannot be understated. Here’s to next year!