Outbreak Fest Manchester 2026 – The Review: Sunday

Closing out the three days of physical and mental carnage, Outbreak focused on a wide array of hardcore (after a rubbish start to the day due to a broken-down refuse lorry). From legends to young guns. Definitely far from a stinking pile of garbage! Words by Chris Earl & Pete Wall.

Dealing with delays to the crowd getting in due to a broken-down bin lorry, Leeds metalcore antagonisers Crowquill start their set to a smaller crowd than they deserve. Throw Converge and On Broken Wings into a blender, and you come close to their sound, and on the second stage it feels as massive as it does chaotic, and the moshing on show proves it. Vocalist Liam Turton’s deeply personal statements to the crowd see him receive an outpouring of love, and with their set closer being one of the best metalcore tracks of the last decade in ‘The Family Faucet’, it’s a triumphant beginning to Sunday, with crowds swarming their merch table afterwards. CE

It ain’t clever, but it’s sure as hell big and fun. Gridiron once again took to the second stage of Outbreak after a stunning performance two years ago, armed with even more tracks of hip-hop-influenced bouncing hardcore. Undeniable bangers like Trench and 26/9 are made for festivals, and even the uninitiated are soon banging their heads and trying their best to flash gang signs. Frontman Matthew Karll is electric, a born showman who conducts things with a swagger that few can ever hope to match, and with bangers like ‘No Good At Goodbyes’ in their arsenal, he’s got the material to warrant it. At this point, you could put Gridiron on every two years and you’d be guaranteed big crowds, hefty moshing and belting singalongs. CE

A band that seemed to not get much hype in the run-up to the fest but delivered an absolute rager of a set was SoCals Initiate. They’re definitely an “if you know, you know” kind of band, and they definitely turned the heads of more than a few curious passers-by with their brand of chaotic hardcore. Vocalist Crystal’s charisma is infectious and she commands the crowd through a rousing set of hard yet melodic tunes that slightly edge their way into metalcore territory, ending on the incendiary (pun intended) Firestarter for a scathing end to proceedings. CE

Philadelphia shoegaze envelope-pushers Nothing is an interesting choice for a Sunday afternoon on the main stage at Outbreak. I mean this in both senses of the word: on the one hand there’s something captivating and centring about getting lost in their sound in the sunshine, and on the other hand vast swathes of the audience are at an all-you-can-eat hardcore buffet inside and have absolutely no room for gazing at a shoe unless it’s just cracked them across the jaw. During the studied pace and woozy ambience of opener ‘Purple Strings’, there’s a quiet exodus of those clamouring for more immediacy. If it wasn’t for the whiplash-inducing programming of the afternoon, it would be tempting to suggest that those that left robbed themselves of a sublime palate cleanser. The set creeps up and gradually takes a hold with a very particular vibe that really hits for those that stick around. Almost half of the songs performed are from this year’s excellent record A Short History of Decay, and the show is capped off by a soaring rendition of 2008’s ‘Zero Day’ set to images of drone strikes and architectural destruction played forwards and in reverse to a near-hypnotic effect. Nothing is an Outbreak band yet simultaneously sits as an outlier to pretty much everything else at the festival, and by the time they leave the stage, that doesn’t matter at all. PW

With their logo surrounded by baked beans and at one point declaring, “If you eat baked beans, you better fuck this shit up,” Idaho three-piece Ingrown declare absolute war on the third stage. Insanely heavy, stomping and moshable hardcore punk, they incite some of the most violent scenes of the weekend. No nonsense, no gimmicks, just three dudes playing insanely hard and holding nothing back. One of the sets of the weekend for sure, and you surely think that if they come back, the second stage beckons. CE

There are a host of contenders for most intense vocalist at Outbreak this year, but Pat Flynn is a man who can give any of them a run for their hard-earned money. The guy finds time to hold down a full-time job as an educator while fronting both Have Heart and Fiddlehead and you’d think that might leave a guy a little low on pep, but not this guy. From the opening plea turned anthem ‘Baby I’ll Change’ through the E.E. Cummings verse of ‘Grief Motif’ and straight into the spirited ode to forward motion of ‘The Years’, the set gathers steam and the front stage pulls in waves of stage divers until a brief pause after ‘The Deathlife’ gives Flynn a moment to untangle himself from the crowd and recount hearing secondhand from a student about online criticism they’d read of their teacher/legendary frontman and his supposed lack of style. In a moment of wholesome indignation, he yells out, “I’m a schoolteacher. Call us what you want. This is true hardcore!” before launching into ‘True Hardcore (II)’ and sending the energy level into the stratosphere. In a fevered set there’s time for a killer rendition of ‘Sullen Boy’, a dedication to Basement’s Andrew Fisher, whose mic stand Flynn has borrowed and snapped in the melee at the front, and an adoring tribute and stolen kiss for Flynn’s wife watching from the wings. As the show crescendos with ‘Million Times’, Fiddlehead and their crowd become one unified mass of feeling at what is one of the very best shows of the weekend. PW

If one band on Sunday’s main stage might match the raw intensity of Fiddlehead, then it’s La Dispute. The Michigan post-hardcore five-piece have been releasing records for twenty years and still find new veins to tap for the delivery of narratives as emotional odysseys. This afternoon’s set leans into the richness of their newer material from last year’s No One Was Driving The Car, with three of the opening four tracks off that record setting the tone as the crowd, led by a hyperactive frontman, Jordan Dreyer, white-knuckle their way through the likes of ‘Sibling Fistfight at Mom’s Fiftieth / The Un-Sound’ with the fervour of a congregation of zealots. Notwithstanding an excoriating cameo from Crystal Pak of Initiate on ‘Why It Scares Me’, nothing can quite touch the sight and sound of hundreds and hundreds of people screaming “Will I still get into heaven if I kill myself?” at the climax of the gut-wrenching true crime storytelling of ‘King Park’. Underscoring the continuing relevance and vitality of La Dispute, the set closes out with ‘Such Small Hands’, a track that has picked up unlikely viral traction online almost twenty years after its release as the opener on their debut album. Counter-programmed against high-calibre hardcore indoors, La Dispute more than hold their own. PW

Wow. Just…wow. Powerviolence legends Trash Talk cemented themselves into Outbreak folklore with their Sunday set. Putting on a display so energetic, so frantic that even the legendary Hatebreed (who had to go on after them) would feel nervous, Lee Spielman led his band of miscreants on a mission to create mayhem. Getting the entire front section (and most of the main area) to sit down at one point before unleashing hell, with various members appearing in the crowd at points, is a goosebumps-inducing time that ends with the revelation that they’ll be back in 2027, with new music in tow. CE

Deep and early cuts only. That was the focus of this Hatebreed set that saw the second stage closed off as it reached capacity. Whether they would have been better suited to outdoors is a reasonable question, but there can be no denying the sheer joy that this set of songs brought. Without Hatebreed (and Converge from Saturday), Outbreak doesn’t exist; it’s as simple as that, and it was records like Under The Knife, Satisfaction Is The Death of Desire and Perseverance that helped so many people in the room on their hardcore journey. Opening on ‘Empty Promises’, the dancefloor is never still for a second, as bodies fly off the stage at every point. Jasta’s Cheshire cat grin never leaves his face as he leads the band through foundational hardcore tracks like ‘Smash Your Enemies’, ‘Not One Truth’ and the life affirming anthem that is ‘Perseverance’. The crowd is a mix of misty eyed and black eyed when the dust settles on the one-two punch of perennial set closers (the only song post 2001) ‘Looking Down The Barrel Of Today’ and the undeniable, the monolithic ‘I Will Be Heard’. CE

Simply put, the most legendary hardcore band of the modern age. Trapped Under Ice are no strangers to Outbreak, and on Sunday evening they played to possibly their biggest crowd at the festival. A stunning set which delivered banger after banger, from the iconic ‘Pleased To Meet You’ kicking things off to the anthemic ‘Born To Die’, they had the crowd in the palm of their hand. With Turnstile frontman and OG drummer Brendan Yates getting multiple shots on the big screen to mass applause, it’s Justice who steals the show with a commanding performance. There have been hints at new TUI music for a while, and even though no new ones are given, with the form that they’re in, you have no doubts that should they choose to drop new music, it’ll be better than 90% of their peers. CE

Headlining the mainstage for the second time in three years, Basement are firmly established as Outbreak favourites among much of the festival’s target audience. You can’t please everyone all of the time, but judging by the packed out front pen and sprawling crowd gathered all the way back to the food stands that encircle the outdoor arena, there’s no shortage of appetite for more from Suffolk’s returning heroes. Just a few songs in a full-crowd sing-along to ‘Covet’ against a backdrop of the setting sun is a pretty irresistible festival highlight. Frontman Andrew Fisher pays tribute to Outbreak for their longstanding support for a band that debuted at the festival more than a decade ago and are experiencing “a full circle moment”. Fisher is a fascinating stage presence; one moment looking like he might never smile again and the next beaming from ear to ear as if he’s struggling to comprehend the majesty of his place in the world. He admits to being overcome by nerves with so many friends and peers in attendance, but then a soaring ‘Whole’ flips a switch and the mood settles into a comfortable late-evening reverie. As the set draws towards its end, the crowd starts to thin a little, and one of the main stage speakers begins to give out. Basement brings down the curtain on Outbreak’s 15th anniversary in triumphant style just before we all collapse. PW

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