A NIGHT OF BARE FOOT CHAOS | HOTHOUSE FLOWERS IN LONDON

LIVE REVIEW | HOTHOUSE FLOWERS w/ Lorraine Nash | LONDON SHEPHERD’S BUSH EMPIRE | 13th June 2025 by Kevin O’Sullivan

There was no setlist. No plan, apparently. No real idea how long they’d even play. According to a chatty security guard at soundcheck, Hothouse Flowers just turned up and let the night unfold – and honestly, it worked. Somehow, the chaos suited them.

It’s been over 35 years since the Dublin outfit burst onto the scene with ‘Don’t Go‘, and while plenty of their contemporaries have faded into pub nostalgia, Hothouse Flowers are still packing out venues like the Forum – barefoot, wild, and as musically untamed as ever.

Before they even hit the stage, Irish singer-songwriter Lorraine Nash opened with a gorgeously understated set. There’s something timeless about her delivery – gentle, honest, and soaked in melody. ‘Winter Song‘ stood out in particular, all soft edges and sorrow, even if singing about frosty mornings in a sweltering venue felt a bit ironic. She’s got a Glastonbury slot next and a London return in October, and on this showing, both should be worth catching.

Then came the main event. Liam Ó Maonlaí wandered out barefoot, draped in a white suit and colourful scarf like he’d just strolled in from a wedding and a séance. The band kicked things off loose and fluid – part gig, part jam session, part spiritual gathering. Liam moves between instruments like they’re second nature – guitar, keyboard, harmonica, or just his voice filling the room.

The night had plenty of highlights: ‘Ballad of Katie‘ brought some early-album nostalgia, ‘Love Don’t Work This Way‘ oozed soul, and their take on ‘I Can See Clearly Now‘ lit the place up. Unsurprisingly, ‘Don’t Go‘ nearly took the roof off.

That said, the heat was relentless (Hothouse seemed apt). Upstairs on the balcony felt like sitting inside a radiator, and the murmur of chatter from the bar areas kept cutting into the quieter moments. But then came that moment – Liam alone at the piano, performing a haunting Irish ballad that brought the entire room to a standstill. No talking, no phones, just silence. Goosebumps.

There’s no slick polish to what Hothouse Flowers do. It’s messy, heartfelt, and completely alive. And in a world where gigs often feel like clockwork, their unpredictability feels like a gift.