Review & Photography by Manny Manson for MPM
On the back of a recent knockout US tour, Cardinal Black decided that Rock City, that East Midlands Mecca to live music would, tonight host the opening salvo of the U.K. leg of the “Welcome to the Valencia Tour 24/25,” and as you can imagine, from the first chord to the last lingering note, Cardinal Black owned Rock City like it was an intimate club in the darkest depths of South Wales. The Welsh-formed trio of Tom Hollister (vocals), Chris Buck (guitar), and Adam Roberts (drums) took to the stage alongside their touring entourage, Sam Andrews on bass and Michael Blanchfield on keyboards, sadly there was no Tay Cousins on backing vocals (all of whom recently, have become integral to the live translation of their studio sound).
They launched straight into “Ride Home,” the opening cut from Midnight at the Valencia (released 23 May 2025). There was no dialling in, no warm-up, just those opening arpeggios, the quiet tension before Tom’s voice cut through with that smoky clarity he carries so well. His phrasing leaned intimate and dare I say, slightly confessional, only to be buttressed seconds later by Buck’s nuanced guitar bends and atmospheric sustain that seemed to echo the lyric’s longing. It was a statement: they meant to bring us in fully from the first second.
Barely a heartbeat later comes “Falling,” also from Midnight at the Valencia, its rolling groove and yearning chorus catching the audience off guard in the best way. This is where Hollister’s voice soars, bruised yet powerful, and the audience begins to sway with it instinctively. Buck’s guitar slips between silky phrases and piercing lines that hang in the rafters like smoke. From the off, it’s clear this isn’t just a concert but a reclaiming of ground that was theirs all along. From there the tension gave way to groove with “Keep On Running,” another Valencia track.
The swampy, rolling blues-rock beat swayed and pulled. Sam’s bass came alive beneath Buck’s slicing leads, and Michael’s keys filled in harmonic space without ever crowding Hollister’s vocal. Tom sculpted the lines, pulling back to murmur in the verses, then delivering grit and grit-laced whispers in the choruses. Buck teased the edges, lacing in slide work, fast runs, then settling into sustained notes that sang long after he struck them. That interplay, vocal and guitar in conversation, already felt tight, like a conversation of equals.
“Holding My Breath,” from Valencia, followed, one of the more vulnerable moments from Valencia. Its live incarnation tonight felt spacious, like the band was giving it room to breathe. Tom’s vocal trembled in places, urgency held in reserve, while Buck adorned the gaps with muted rhythm strums, ghost notes, then let loose when the song demanded it. In the solo section, he didn’t overload with speed; instead, he chose emotional phrasing, letting each note land. The audience was drawn in; you could sense the hush before the release. Then came “Terra Firma,” reaching back into January Came Close (released 28 October 2022). That song, familiar and beloved, landed tonight with extra weight. The lyrics felt more lived with, the melody more resonant.
Tom delivered every word as if he’d carried it long, and Buck matched him: muted chord work, sudden bursts of aggression, dynamic swings between quiet introspection and bigger, distorted moments. It was a reminder of how their past and present dovetail, the new work lives in the shadow and light of the old.
“Adeline,” back to Valencia, brought a hush to the room. The opening lines floated; Tom’s voice cracked just enough to remind you this is real, not polished veneer. Buck responded gently, weaving in guitar lines that echoed, whispered, then gradually built in strength. That crescendo felt earned, not forced, and the room leaned in, caught in the transition from fragile to full. They shifted gears into “Jump In,” from January, a more immediate, punchy number from January Came Close. The floor responded, bodies moved, energy jumped. Tom leaned hard into his more muscular voice, Buck responded with riffs that cut, hammered, and then pivoted to melodic hooks, bridging raw energy with careful craft. It re-energised the room.
Then came “Morning Light,” from Valencia, a quieter, more introspective moment from Valencia. The acoustic textures shimmered in Michael’s keys, the bass held pocket, and Tom’s vocal whispered truth into the space. It felt like a moonlit moment amid the storms; when Buck’s electric lines crept in, they did so with restraint, just enough to lift, to colour, never to dominate. The transition from soft to fuller tones was seamless, and it felt like the band caught its breath with us. “Your Spark (Blows Me to Pieces),” from Valencia, new, fresh, visceral, arrived with a swell of emotion. On record it’s a torch song; live, it was a benediction. Tom poured heartbreak and gratitude into every vowel; Buck framed him with shimmering, sustained lines, sliding in and out, letting notes hang, letting tension tremble. The crowd quieted, as though absorbing every syllable.
Then the familiar lens: “Tell Me How It Feels” from January Came Close. That song has become something of a signature, and the crowd knew it early, lines were sung back, voices joined in the choruses. Tom moved between vulnerability and passion, wrestling with every note. Buck’s solo hit with emotional clarity; not bravado, but sincerity. The crowd roared in recognition, this was home. “Warm Love,” from January, followed, sweeter, softer, a lull in the storm. The gentleness in the arrangement tonight was beautiful: Tom crooned, Buck responded with warm tonal fills, Michael’s keys added subtle colour, Sam’s bass and Adam’s drums gave it heartbeat without push. It felt like a moment for reflection before the storm’s last push.
Then “Where Do You Go?” also from Januar,y closed the main set. It carried urgency, aching questions. Tom delivered it with resolve; Buck’s riffs snapped and rattled, then opened into one final flourish, a statement of momentum. Tom exited the stage as the rest of the band delivered a smooth but prolonged ending to the song. Cheers and applause broke loud enough to demand more, and more is exactly what they gave, without the rest of the band leaving the stage.
The atmosphere took on a reverent stillness with “Push/Pull” from Valencia. Before they play it, Chris takes a moment to talk about losing his dad on the very morning of the Chepstow Castle gig two years ago, a raw memory that still clearly sits close to the surface. He explained how he sent a hook to Tom, and how Tom crafted it into this song, which became a tribute to his father.
What followed was not just another live performance, but a moment of communion between band and audience, bold, introspective, atmospheric. Tom and Chris shared the spotlight, Tom’s vocal almost confiding, Buck’s lines ambient and haunting, Michael’s keys subtle, all three interwoven in aching harmony, and you could have heard a pin drop across Rock City. The dynamic arc was beautiful: quiet to powerful, letting tension ride until the peak. That dynamic control remains one of their strengths, not every band can hold a room just by controlling volume and space. The crowd, usually so eager to cheer, stayed hushed, reverent, hanging on every syllable as if the song belonged to them too. When the final notes faded, the applause came not with the usual roar but with a swell of respect, an outpouring of gratitude for being let in on something so personal.
As if to hide emotions, Buck forced feedback from his guitar, staring at his band mates it was time for the set closer, they chose “Tied Up In Blue,” a darker, moodier cut from January Came Close. It felt like a final exhale. Tom’s voice carried weight, carrying fragments of heartbreak and resolution. Buck’s solo, lengthy, expressive, sustained, was a coda. Notes dripped, bent, held. By the time the final chord rang, Rock City was humming in the afterglow.
All night, the flow felt organic. They never segregated “old vs new” as if they were different bands; instead, the songs from both Valencia and January Came Close interwove, creating a narrative continuity. You sensed their evolution, the roots still visible, the branches reaching. Tom’s voice was the anchor: fearless, versatile, emotionally invested. Buck’s guitar was the perfect partner, always expressive but controlled, never overplayed. The rhythm section (Adam Roberts, Sam Andrews) and Michael Blancfield supported without overshadowing, giving the framework within which the core duo could fly. Oh and the crowd could join in where needed.
It’s worth stepping back to remember what brought us here, because Cardinal Black’s history has never been straightforward. Their story is spiky and winding, beginning in Wales when the band first came together years ago. As tonight’s set unfolds, they reach deep into their earliest catalogue, and you can feel the weight of history carried in these songs. Some were written back in 2010 and 2011 during the band’s first incarnation, before everything fell apart and momentum seemed lost. For a while, it felt like the promise had slipped through their fingers. But then came the pandemic years, strange, heavy, and unrelenting, and with them, a spark of renewal. Those old songs were never quite silenced; they lingered in the background, tied together by friendship and shared ambition. During those quiet months, they were dusted off, reworked, and reimagined with the benefit of experience and the raw edge of hindsight. It was less a resurrection than a rebirth.
In the years between, Chris Buck’s reputation had grown, crowned “Best New Guitarist in the World” in 2019, a title that preceded the band’s second renaissance. Tom Hollister, meanwhile, had stepped back into tour management, while Adam Roberts carved out a living as a first-call session drummer, waiting until the time felt right to bring it all back together. When they regrouped, Sam Williams joined on bass, later replaced by Sam Andrews, while Tom’s brother Michael lent his touch on keyboards whenever he could. Tonight, that role is in the hands of Michael Blanchfield, Nottingham born and bred, and he more than proves himself a natural fit.
The only absence felt is Tay Cousins, whose backing vocals usually add a depth and presence to the live sound. Even so, the band stitch their back catalogue together with precision and heart, building on a foundation of songs that once seemed destined to be forgotten. Now they are fully alive again, burnished by time, and carried forward by a band who sound as if they were always meant to find their way back here.
Their debut full-length January Came Close dropped on 28 October 2022. It arrived with quiet force, reintroducing them to an audience hungry for honest rock with soul. Its songs like “Tell Me How It Feels,” “Warm Love,” “Where Do You Go?” “Jump In” became part of their live lexicon and have taken on deeper resonance with time. Then, Midnight at the Valencia, released 23 May 2025, feels like the crystallisation of all that came before: it’s bolder, more assured, more ambitious. The production (analogue, vintage gear in Zurich) sought to capture the rawness, the room, the nuance.
On this home-leg opener, it didn’t feel like just another gig, it felt like a coming-out moment. The touring band filled the sonic picture; the core three carried the emotional heart. The balance between vulnerability and raw power, the trust in silence, the confidence in dynamic shifts, all of it made for a show that was more than a collection of songs. It was a statement: they’ve paid their dues, they’ve sharpened their voices, and now they’re stepping fully into a new phase.
(Manny has scribbled in the margin saying: “tell everyone you know to go see them. Because this is a band on the rise, with heart, with resolve, with a live voice that backs up every promise.” When the road gets long (and it will), let tonight be the memory you carry, where a Welsh trio and their backing crew turned Rock City inside out, and left everyone, including the security, wanting more)!
