The London-based band create an immersive mood with their jazz-infused folk rock.

Beneath the low ceilings of the Sebright Arms, where the air carries the memory of countless guitars and spilled pints, Running Standard take the stage on a Wednesday night in Hackney. The London-based band fuse the intimacy of folk storytelling with the restless edge of jazz and rock, where instruments breathe and clash in equal measure. Their sound feels at once deliberate and improvised — a balance few manage, and fewer sustain.

To describe their own work, Running Standard have chosen the minimalist phrase “words and creaks.” Yet while their music is far from minimalism, there is not a genre that can quite contain the complexity of the words and creaks in question.

Their thirty-minute set in the basement of the east London pub takes the audience on a journey through jazz-infused folk rock, where saxophone hovers above screeching guitars and pulsing percussion, while vulnerable lyrics are delivered through vocals that shift from quivering hums to urgent cries. Each word carries emotion that lingers in the air, yet the performance never slips into melodrama.

There is a genuine joy for the craft that resonates in every note played. Running Standard invite movement through rhythmic grooves and playful interludes, which contrast the heart-piercing lyrics of lines like, “Hold your breath / And kill that lump / Inside your throat.”

On ‘Mark Works Late’, Matthew Haygarth’s vocals reach a jarring lilt as his voice cracks with raw emotion, before he returns to introspection with his guitar. Joined on stage by Angus Haygarth on drums and backing vocals, George Balmont on bass, Joseph Bazalgette on saxophone, Patrick “Paddy” Davies on violin and percussion, and Dom Howard on guitar, the song cracks open into catharsis. Every creak, every word, becomes part of a living pulse.

There is a restless interplay of rhythm and restraint throughout the set. The percussion shifts between drive and grounding, while the bass reverberates with a steady pulse. ‘Loaded False Electro!’ arrives as a moment of release, an outburst of sound where the saxophone weaves a melodic line through the dissonant grit of guitar, serving as a demonstration of controlled chaos.

“Thank you for coming out tonight, I do not even want to be here”, Matt says between songs, creating a moment of honesty and self-deprecation that threads through the entire set. The lyrics remain vulnerable and raw, and the technical challenges only ground the performance in something painfully human. Yet musically, they deliver with unfaltering confidence.

‘Dog For You’ opens like a wound, aching with honesty. The confessional lyrics read like a diary entry: “Oh Isaac told me / I have an artistic soul / And no friends and no money / And I’m starting to believe him”. Gentle guitar picking is joined by a murmuring violin and soft percussion. The lyrics continue to unpack a quiet anxiety, while the instrumentals begin to gather pace. The saxophone adds colour and lift, carrying the melody into a moment of catharsis. “I’m a dog for you” is enunciated not as self-deprecation but as release. The interplay of instruments feels spontaneous — not chaotic, but alive with a sense of intuitive motion, as though each player is listening for the next heartbeat. The final note lingers, reverberating through the dimly lit room even as the band begin to pack down.

The air hums with what remains unspoken. Each song rises and folds back on itself, revealing a band more interested in feeling than in form, yet entirely in command of their craft. Running Standard have spent the summer recording a new album, due for release in 2026, but for those too impatient to wait, they will return to east London for a show at the Shacklewell Arms on 9th November.

When the last note fades, what remains is not silence but resonance — the sound of a band utterly present in their own making.