In some parts of the South West, it has rained for more than 50 days this year. It certainly feels as though Bristol has been drenched for most of 2026, and it's all been a bit miserable really. What we need then, more than anything, is a bit of sunshine.

 

There's probably some kind of ridiculous irony that it takes a four-piece from Newcastle to bring some warmth to Downend, but that is exactly what Bluegrass northerners, THE OFTEN HERD, do. 

 

And there is nothing that invokes the last rays of a sleepy summer sun quite like the duel between mandolin and fiddle, the frog-on-a-log ribbit of a double bass and a guitar that simply sings. The Often Herd have all of these and magical harmonies too. The darkest days are instantly brightened.

 

 

This is the first date of a nationwide tour and it seems to be an opportunity to try out some new, yet to be recorded, songs and re-visit an old favourite, or two.

 

Casablanca is a recent-ish single and dust motes dance through sunbeams straight away. Evan Davies’ mandolin and Niles Krieger's fiddle link arms and do-si-do effortlessly while Rupert Hughes' voice is all laid-back '70s ease. It's the sound of well-worn denim, soft to the touch. 

 

Krieger's fiddle floats gently over so much of this evening. It's lazy and gentle on Remember My Name, nudging a bitter-sweet Davies memory into the light. Eventually it sweeps in, shoves any hint of melancholy to one side, and wipes the slate clean. On Sycamore Gap it is plaintive, aching with loss, while it swoons over the waltz-y Hold On.

 

It is the perfect mix between American, country-tinged good times and the lush green of an English pastoral idyll (maybe not that surprising as the American Krieger has lived in England for fifteen years). A version of Bill Monroe's Working on a Building is flecked with sawdust while raising gospel rafters. The fiddle carving light and hope. Solos from everyone else add gorgeous decoration and Hughes sings his heart out. Bluegrass magic in the most English of churches. 

 

 

Dylan's You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go bounces along to Sam Quintana's bass, the perfect foundation for more intricate solos from Davies’ mandolin, while Inner Peace struts along a high wire, mandolin and fiddle recklessly chasing one another, just for fun. 

 

A cover of Lindisfarne's Meet Me on the Corner is comforting like an old friend. Hughes almost shimmers in '70s heartthrob soft-focus, singing from the hazy pages of Look In. The fiddle and mandolin are simply astonishing as Americana invades Englishness, once again. Each player steps forward to show what they've got but this isn't to show off, it's more a celebration. 

 

New songs, many of which go un-named, show that The Often Herd aren't satisfied with just (!) being a Bluegrass band. There are hints of “proper” country music, of swirls of folk and gauzy pop. Evergreen Blues, for example, is a stately waltz, filled with wit and charm, that explodes as Krieger pushes against the canopy overhead, letting in so much light.

 

By the end of their set there's dancing in the corners, whooping and hollering and dazed smiles on every face. And maybe, just maybe, there's some sunshine on the horizon.

 

 

The support for the evening was local duo GREEN TREE. Abbey and Rory from high-energy Bristol Bluegrass foot-stompers, Old Baby Mackerel, thank us for coming to see “weirdo American folk music” and then play a lovely set of, um, weirdo American folk music. Except, of course, it's not that weird at all - unless you consider writing a Bluegrass song about queueing in the Tesco in Staple Hill as strange (I Always Back the Wrong Horse).

 

Abbey's voice is wonderfully sweet, on Take me to the Sea, while her mandolin chugs away, allowing flash guitar solos from Rory. There's infectious exuberance and an assuredness that only the very best duos have, the ones that really know about this stuff. The instrumental, Where the Gnomes Live, taken from their latest EP, is just great. Two instruments, gloriously inter-locked, playing for the sheer delight of it. Another band finding light in the dark.

 

If the time since Christmas has been water-logged and miserable then a hefty dose of Bluegrass is exactly what is needed. Downend Folk & Roots, as it so often does, delivered in spades.

 

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