THE FRONT ROW

A night to prove that grassroots music, when done right, isn’t just alive, it’s unstoppable.

Whitby isn’t the first place you’d pick on a map when you think of a youth-driven, sold-out live show. Maybe you’d point west or south to Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, even York. But here on the North Yorkshire coast, in an old seaside venue best known for retro discos and wedding fairs, a near-1,000-strong crowd turned up to create something that felt, by the end of the night, genuinely special.

Four bands, each delivering their own version of big melodies, bigger choruses and no small amount of heartfelt sincerity, built a night that, if you were there, might stay with you a while.

The Bankes Brothers – Opening with Pure Adrenaline

It takes a brave band to fly across the Atlantic, join a bill at the last minute, and walk onstage knowing half the room is still deciding whether to buy a t-shirt or a pint. But The Bankes Brothers, hailing from BC, Canada, weren’t here to make up numbers.

Originally unbilled, they landed this opener after meeting Sunbeam at Isle of Wight Festival earlier in the month. Clearly, Sunbeam saw something in them, and within about two minutes of their set, everyone else did too.

The crowd was maybe a hundred strong when they stepped out, but it felt like triple that as soon by the time they struck up “Nobody,” the title track from their freshly released EP. A fast, jangling slice of country-indie energy, it set the tone for the entire half-hour sprint through the band’s best material.

“In Waves,” with its twangy guitar riff and rich vocal harmonies, sounded huge in the Pavilion’s cavernous hall. “See Me Run”, arguably the most anthemic thing they’ve put to tape so far, had the front few rows nodding along like they’d known it for years.

What really stuck out was just how much fun they were having. No hint of a warm-up slot complex. No nerves about a half-full floor. Just four musicians playing songs they clearly love, and sounding tight as anything while doing it.

Their set was the perfect reminder that support bands are often the night’s secret highlight. The Bankes Brothers left Whitby with a hundred new fans, and the distinct sense that they’ll be back before long.

Astoria – Big Guitars, Bigger Hooks

Next up were Astoria, fresh off the back of giving The Front Row an exclusive premiere of their single “The Rhythm and the Record Hum.” If the Bankes Brothers had been the spark, Astoria poured petrol on it.

From the moment the guitars struck the opening chords, it was clear they’d come determined to make an impression. Huge, driving rhythms anchored every track, while soaring vocals kept pulling your attention skyward.

What’s impressive about Astoria live is how effortlessly they pivot between tight, precise playing and that ragged, sweaty energy you can’t fake. A lot of bands talk about “big melodies”, Astoria actually deliver them, song after song.

Their half-hour felt short, almost frustratingly so. By the time they finally launched into “The Rhythm and the Record Hum,” the crowd had doubled in size, and the reaction felt closer to a headline set than a mid-bill slot.

It was the kind of performance that makes you check your calendar to see where you can catch them next.

The Crooks – Chesterfield’s Finest

By the time The Crooks walked on, the Pavilion was getting crowded, pints were being hoisted, and the sense that something big was brewing was undeniable.

For those who’ve been following The Crooks over the past few years, the set was a greatest-hits showcase. “In Time,” with its unmistakable Oasis-esque swagger, was greeted with roars of recognition. “I Wonder” saw the first real wave of a few singalongs in the crowd.

There’s a tightness to The Crooks live that can only come from years of hard gigging. Every track is delivered with confidence and an undercurrent of genuine affection for the songs. Nothing is phoned in.

Even if you’ve seen them before (and for a few in the room, it wasn’t the first time), there’s something about their set that never feels stale. Maybe it’s the conviction, maybe it’s the songwriting, either way, it works.

Set highlight What You Know,” they left the crowd buzzing, setting the perfect stage for the night’s hometown heroes.

Sunbeam – A Hometown Triumph

If you want to understand what this gig meant to Sunbeam, all you needed to do was watch Jimmy Organ-Simpson’s face when he stepped up to the mic.

For any band, selling out a venue this size in your own town is special. For Sunbeam, who’ve been grinding it out for years, releasing EPs, touring every corner of the North, and building something genuinely grassroots, it felt like a culmination.

They opened with “Bide My Time,” a track from their debut EP released seven years ago. The response was instant, a surge of voices belting it back like it had come out yesterday. That mix of nostalgia and pride was everywhere: in the band’s slightly shell-shocked smiles, in the front rows packed with people who’d been following them since the start, and in the absolute roar that went up between songs.

“Hometown” and “You Can Always Run” both hit like local anthems, tracks that belong to Whitby as much as to Sunbeam. By the time they reached “The Lights,” the entire floor was bouncing, hands in the air, the mood shifting somewhere between celebration and catharsis.

Then came their cover of “Rotterdam.” There’s something about a big, crowd-pleasing cover that turns a good gig into a great one, and this was no exception. As the first chorus hit, giant beach balls were flung into the crowd. In a bigger venue, it might have been a mild novelty. Here, it was hilarious chaos. Balls careened across the hall, smacking unsuspecting punters and sparking impromptu games of keepy-uppy.

It was messy, it was silly, and it was perfect.

The emotional high point arrived with “All My Life.” When Jimmy sang, All my life comes down to this right now, you could see he meant every word. It was one of those moments when the line between performer and audience disappears. Everyone in the Pavilion felt it.

And then, “Glory Days.” It felt almost like a mission statement.

Just when it seemed the night couldn’t get any better, Sunbeam launched into a sprawling, euphoric mashup of “Praise You” by Fatboy Slim and “Bitter Sweet Symphony.”

It was well past 11pm by this point, but nobody was ready to go home. The “Bitter Sweet Symphony” outro stretched on and on, a wall of noise and communal singing that blurred into something timeless. If you’d glanced around, you’d have seen strangers with arms around each other, shouting every word like their lives depended on it.

When they finally dropped into their freshly released cover of “This Is The Life,” the place went into total meltdown. Bodies on shoulders, pints held aloft, a joyous chaos that looked like every gig you dreamed about when you were fifteen.

What set this show apart wasn’t just the bands or the songs, it was the crowd.

In a music industry forever fretting that “young people don’t go to gigs anymore,” Whitby offered the best possible rebuttal. Those blue wristbands for under-18s were everywhere. If you’d tried to count, you’d probably have found more teenagers in the hall than adults.

They weren’t there to stand at the back and scroll TikTok. They were down the front, singing every chorus, forming joyous bouncing “pits”, living every second.

It was, without exaggeration, the most hopeful thing I’ve seen in a venue this year. Because if a little town like Whitby can fill a hall with kids who care about live music, maybe there’s a future for this scene after all.

The Sunbeam Summer Bash was everything a grassroots show should be: passionate, chaotic, and completely sincere.

The Bankes Brothers proved that an opener can steal hearts. Astoria showed that big choruses still matter. The Crooks delivered the kind of tight, confident set that only years of work can build. And Sunbeam, well, they earned every last shout, tear, and cheer that filled the Pavilion.

When the lights finally came up, you could see it on everyone’s faces: nobody wanted it to end.

And maybe, in some way, it doesn’t have to. Because nights like this remind you that live music isn’t a trend. It’s a lifeline. And in Whitby, at least, it’s still very much alive.