First up was Shanks & Shivs. Shanks & Shivs are pure North‑East grit — no polish, no pretence, just attitude and riffs that sound like they’ve been sharpened on concrete. They swaggered onto the stage like they’d just stepped out of a back‑alley brawl, and the crowd responded instantly.

Their set was loud, messy in all the right ways, and full of that scrappy energy that makes small‑venue gigs unforgettable. The Grove suits them perfectly: close enough to feel the bass in your ribs, rough enough to match their aesthetic, and warm enough to make even the most chaotic moments feel communal.

By the end, people were grinning, sweating, and shouting for more. Shanks & Shivs didn’t just play a gig — they turned The Grove into a battleground of noise and joy.

England Screaming brought a different kind of fire — raw, jagged, and absolutely unfiltered. They’re the sort of band that doesn’t ease you in; they grab you by the collar and drag you straight into the noise.

Their set was a barrage of riffs and snarling vocals, but underneath it all was a tightness that only comes from a band that’s lived inside their songs. The Grove crowd loved it — that mix of old punks, curious newcomers, and locals who’ve seen more bands in that room than most venues could dream of.

There were moments where the whole place felt like it might lift off the floor. England Screaming don’t perform; they detonate. And The Grove is exactly the kind of room where that explosion feels personal.

Penetration walked into The Grove like they owned the place, and by the end of the night, they absolutely did. Pauline Murray’s voice still has that sharp, crystalline edge — the kind that cuts straight through the chatter and pins the room to the wall.

The band were tight, urgent, and completely locked in. There’s something about The Grove’s low ceiling and close quarters that makes punk feel even more dangerous, and Penetration fed off it. Don’t Dictate hit like a brick through a window, the whole room shouting the chorus back with the kind of conviction you only get in a venue that’s seen decades of sweat and rebellion.

It wasn’t nostalgia. It was a band proving they’re still alive, still relevant, still capable of shaking the walls of a pub in Stanley on a Friday night. Penetration didn’t just play The Grove — they electrified it.