2000 Trees Festival 2026: The Review – Friday and Saturday
2000 Trees continued roasting the music fans in attendance in the second half of the week, but not just with the surface of the sun but with fiery licks from bands old and new. From the legends Funeral Of A Friend & Glassjaw to the young talent of Knives and more.
Words by Cece Lawless & Paul Stephenson.
Friday
Knives
Knives arrive with the kind of buzz most young bands would sell a limb for, and the Marshall Stage is sweatily crammed to see whether British hardcore’s most talked-about new band can cash it in. They keep their end of the bargain and then some. Drawing largely on last year’s incredible Glitter, this is hardcore weaponised: hooks and choruses built to work just as well in tiny basements as they will on main stages, and massive tunes laced with howling sax and riding grooves you can’t shake. Charisma and energy pour off the stage in waves, and it’s hard to watch without concluding this is a band destined for the top of posters. Bigger stages beckon. – PS
Higher Power
If there’s a band whose sound seems perfectly suited to a sunshine-baked main stage at 2000Trees, it’s Higher Power. Kicking things off brightly with a one-two of Shedding Skin and Low Season from their breakthrough 27 Miles Underwater, but pretty quickly there’s a sense something’s missing. Last time they were at Upcote, they played a set in the Axiom of such intensity that it seemed preordained that this progression would come, but now that they’re here, they’re like the dog that finally caught the postman’s van. The songs are great, and maybe it’s the sapping, setting sun, but Higher Power no longer feels like Britain’s brightest hope. – PS
House Of Protection
There is never much doubt that House of Protection will bring energy, but they deliver it in overwhelming amounts. Lead vocalist Stephen Harrison refuses to let the crowd play it safe, shouting, “You’re not at work; you’re not at school, so let’s have some fun.” Instantly, the pit expands across the entire front of the stage. By just the second song, Harrison dives into the chaos, creates a circle pit around himself, and somehow keeps singing while playing guitar. Fans repeatedly grab the microphone to scream every lyric with him in a truly incredible moment. As the set progresses, drummer Aric Improta steps forward for vocals before casually landing a backflip and surfing on a board through the crowd. Nothing about this set sounds real, but somehow it all happened, and the sound remained powerful throughout. – CL
Sunny Day Real Estate
After three days of being endlessly berated by various Metalcore singers to ‘wake the fuck up’ and other such charming entreaties, the positively lackadaisical approach of Jeremy Enigk is something of a breath of fresh air, mumbling not much more than ‘does it sound alright?’ or ‘thanks’ between songs. But when you can draw upon what has to be one of the greatest songbooks of any wave of emo and deliver its highlights with such aching, soaring, pinpoint delivery, maybe you don’t need the banter. – PS
Arcane Roots
The return of a band with such a complex and evolved back catalogue comes loaded with unanswered questions: what version are we getting? The prog majesty? The ethereal post-rock? Or the bludgeon of old? As the stage turns red and the band launches into the new single A Wave, Across The Sea, an absolutely rammed Axiom finds that the answer to these questions is… yes. This is the same soaring, progressive, epic, and melodic Arcane Roots that left us the best part of a decade ago, picking up where they left off. It’s a thrilling return, heavy but delicate, complex yet simple, and frankly more than a little bit emotional for quite a few in the crowd. As for what comes next? Well, there’s an acoustic set tomorrow in the Forest, and then Andrew Groves promises, ‘There’s gonna be some new shows, there’s gonna be some new songs,’ which is greeted as loudly as anything else. Welcome back. – PSCancer Bats
If Arcane Roots are all about the beauty and transcendence of melody, then Cancer Bats are decidedly the opposite of that but no less transcendent for arriving like a brick to the back of the head. This is a no-holds-barred, arse-shaking, hardcore stoner punk n’ roll steamroller; a sweaty, cathartic, windmilling whirlwind. It might not be subtle, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun, and the final one-two of Sabotage into Hail Destroyer ensures everyone leaves the Cave with a big, sloppy grin on their face.
– PS
Funeral For A Friend
Funeral For A Friend wastes no time making an impact, opening with All The Rage straight out of the gate. A brief pause follows when a possible injury in the pit causes the band to stop, but after confirming everyone is okay, they launch straight into the unmistakable telephone-ringing intro of Streetcar. Bubbles float across the audience as waves of clapping hands keep the atmosphere alive. The lighting is equally impressive, shifting from deep blues to bright whites and vivid reds, while the band makes full use of the entire stage.
FFAF was just one of the emo offerings this year, but Trees could not have picked a better Friday headliner. – CL
ALT BLK ERA
Those lucky enough to make it to the Forest Stage for ALT BLK ERA are treated to a striking performance. Ghostly, ethereal vocals sit in sharp contrast to serrated guitar riffs, creating a sound that is both haunting and heavy. Visually, the duo embraces the contrast too, with one dressed entirely in white and the other in black, reinforcing their distinctive aesthetic. However, after a day packed with relentlessly energetic performances, their slower, more atmospheric set feels like a noticeable change of pace. As the festival’s final act, though, that gentler comedown perhaps feels fitting.
– CL
Photo Credit: Joe Singh
Saturday
Ain’t
As the sun somewhat unhelpfully rises on the final day of the festival, it’s down to alt-rock throwbacks Ain’t to kick things off on the Marshall Stage. And ain’t they a welcome breath of fresh air to start the day? Their sound may hark back to the days of The Evening Session on Radio 1, but it’s a decidedly fresh take that weaves in some welcome modern pop leanings and even some alt-country, borne aloft by the delicate, emotive vocals of singer Hanna Baker Darch. True indie stars in the making. – PS
PEACH
Anchored by the Kim Deal-esque howl of singer Ellie, Peach offers yet more 90s revivalism, this time taking in the Californian desert sound of early Kyuss as a backdrop to their alt-rock, veering from taut angularity into monstrous bass-driven riffs with aplomb. They may not have drawn too much of a crowd this early in the day, but those who left the safety and shade of their tents definitely came away as converts. – PS
Thorns
Youth is no barrier to writing historically accurate thrash riffs, and this Ohio outfit tears through its set at a pace that would make James Hetfield proud. Every song is delivered with relentless speed, precision, and confidence, showing a band well beyond its years. Whilst the band is tight (and sounds better live than recorded), watch out for their incredibly talented drummer, who more than leads the pack. Thorns, having travelled all the way from Ohio to a small field in the south-west of England, justify the mammoth journey with this performance. – CL
Bicurious
Irish two-piece Bicurious has the Marshall stage packed beyond all reasonable capacity, one great, sweaty, stinking mass of dancing, grinning, appalling joy. The Marshall Stage has been punishingly hot for the whole weekend — the one tent without even a modicum of breeze allowed, even ducking your head in is enough to break out in a sweat — so viewing a band here is a commitment, especially once you factor in the stink amassed by mid-afternoon on this final day. But Bicurious are worth it, tearing through a short, sharp blast of some of the best-crafted pop hooks of the weekend. One of the biggest contenders for the title ‘they’ll be headlining this, one day.’ Now, for the love of all that is holy, let us out of this tent. – PS
Arcane Roots
‘This is a nice opportunity for us; so much of what we do is all smoke and ninjas,’ Andrew Groves jokes, settling in to begin the Roots’ second set in somewhat calmer environs. Perhaps we missed the ninjas last night, but today brings a set of beautiful melodies, stripped-back back-catalogue gems, and haunting vocal brilliance. It’s delivered to a crowd split roughly between die-hard fans and people sheltering from the heat, who’ve seemingly decided en masse that what such beauty really needs is to be talked over, loudly, about the most tedious conversation imaginable.
Soon enough, though, the songs beat back the noise, and there’s more stage banter than you might expect, so much so that their sound guy tells them to get a move on. They’re clearly having a lot of fun, and that can only bode well for the future. As they close with a delicate You Are, the faithful have been treated to two sets, as different from each other as you could imagine, both spectacular in their own way. – PS
A
With so many new bands throwing back sonically to the 90s, it’s good to see a few bona fide survivors from that era still chugging along, and so it is with A, the band with such spectacularly bad timing that they named themselves to be at the front of the record store racks only a few short years before they would become the most ungoogleable band in history. But they’re back, and they bring with them one of Brit Rock’s most summery songbooks to tear up the forest stage. As the sun sets on the Forest stage for the final time this year, and an endless wave of children crowdsurf to the obvious delight and amusement of the band, there’s possibly no better band to soundtrack the sunset. An hour of pure joy in the forest.
– PS
Ho99o9
Ho99o9 deliver what is possibly the loudest set of the weekend, refusing to be silenced. They tear through their setlist at speed but pause between songs for musical breaks, including playing Frank Sinatra’s My Way and Gypsy Women (She’s Homeless) midway through. The performance feels more like theatre, with the show as important as the music itself. The duo are magnetic and deeply engaging, drawing on countless influences while shifting effortlessly between styles. They bring an old-school New York punk energy to the stage, with samples, recorded guitar, and live drums supporting the spectacle. Not a single moment feels predictable. – CL
Glassjaw
Somehow, this is the first time post-hardcore legends Glassjaw have played Trees, and frontman Daryl Palumbo is clearly delighted by the place and the crowd who’ve amassed at the main stage to work out what version of The ‘Jaw we’re going to get. The answer given by the opening salvo of Motel of the White Locust, Pretty Lush and Siberian Kiss is… the best kind. ‘Holy shit’ is the refrain that can be heard throughout the crowd as Daryl, Justin, and Chad rip through a set dominated by their first two albums, delivered with punishing intent. Daryl might not be the high-jumping, whirling dervish of old these days (in fact, he looks like he could do with a good, long lie down, bless him), but that voice is in incredible shape. The run of songs from Cosmopolitan Bloodloss to You Think You’re (John Fucking Lennon) to Tip Your Bartender into Mu Empire is staggering, and by the time they close out with Two Tabs of Mescaline, the crowd are staggering away, too, punch drunk and giddy from a true hardcore masterclass.
– PS
High Vis
The ‘hardcore with a heart’ band take to the stage and open with the two step heavy ‘Drop Me Out’. From the start, the moshers are out in full force, leaping and spin-kicking as the five-piece showcase their relatable lyrics and nostalgic sound. They manage to straddle an almost romantic feel in their songs about heartbreak and brotherhood while maintaining an air of not-so-toxic masculinity.
As the last band of the weekend on a stage that champions the heaviest side of the genre, it is only fitting that The Cave closes out with a legendary group. Lead singer Graham Sayle bares his heart in his mid-set speeches, encouraging the men in the audience to check on their friends and go to therapy before half-fighting, half-dancing his way across the stage. Clearly, this is a form of therapy for him.
Sayle is notably wearing a rare, very cool England football jersey, perhaps subtly foreshadowing the band cutting their set short to catch the game. Although the crowd are gutted, they are satiated as the band play every fan favourite and deep cut with precision and passion. – CL.
Neck Deep
With the sun ducking down behind Bunnymans one final time, SoCal-by-way-of-Wrexham punks Neck Deep take the stage to a (somewhat questionable) Michael Jackson sample before launching into the immaculately catchy Can’t Kick Up The Roots. If the Trees faithful had their energy sapped by three or four days of gruelling combat with the global thermostat, they don’t show any sign of it, with each one of the band’s pop-punk anthems greeted with singalongs and raised arms. It’s a real crowd-pleasing set, culled from across their catalogue, and while there’s nothing big or clever about any of it, why would there be? As Trees comes to a close for another year, it’s another British band with a long and deep connection to this festival that brings it home, and there’s something to be said for that. – PS