Review & Photography by Manny Manson for MPM
I rolled into Birmingham early on 3 March with plenty of time to spare before doors at Birmingham Town Hall. The weather was dry for once, which already felt like a small win. I parked up in the Bird Cage car park, grabbed a quick sarnie from Sainsbury’s and settled back in the car for a bit. With time to kill I stuck on a couple of episodes of Lost in Space. As someone who loved the original Lost in Space growing up it’s taken me years to even start the newer version. I still hate the new Dr Smith, but that probably means the actress is doing a great job because she’s supposed to wind you up.
Eventually I wandered across to the venue. Tonight, Birmingham’s Town Hall had been converted into a full standing venue. The seats were gone, the floor was open, and the stage looked huge with a stark white backdrop bearing the name of Samantha Fish. Towering above everything, barely hidden behind the curtains, you could still see the giant pipes of the Town Hall’s historic organ looming high over the stage. It gave the whole room this strange but brilliant visual contrast: old Victorian grandeur hanging over a gritty blues rock show. The vibe was buzzing even before the first note. People were packed in tight, pints in hand, chatting about guitars, albums and past gigs. It felt less like a polite theatre show and more like a sweaty club night waiting to erupt.
Opening the night were the Zac Schulze Gang; a trio from Gillingham. They had arrived in Birmingham in good spirits because their bassist Ant had celebrated a birthday the night before. Apparently, it had been a fairly clean tour up to that point, but birthdays have a habit of derailing those good intentions. Ten pints of Guinness, a pizza, and waking up to a half-eaten dirty kebab before the drive to Birmingham sounded like the exact kind of rock and roll prep you’d expect. Despite that, the band looked sharp and ready. They’re also gearing up for another UK run later this year with support from The Whiskey Flowers on a November tour. Zac and the ‘Gang’ have been steadily building up a reputation on the UK Blues circuit, in fact they’re up for “Best New Comer” later this year. If you’ve not seen them live, they’ve got that slightly unhinged edge that reminds you of the old pub rock scene, the one where every band played like the latest show might be their last.
Despite the questionable nutritional preparation, they walked on stage looking fired up and ready to go. These lads love being on stage and it shows the second they plug in.
They kicked the night off with “High Roller,” their 2023 single, and the room reacted instantly. The first riff hit like a jolt of electricity through the hall, eyes wide opened and jaws dropping as the chunky, aggressive, and drenched in raw blues-rock tone, that felt impossibly big for a three-piece, hit the crowd full on with the unstoppable force of a Japanese tsunami. Zac Schulze’s guitar work was the perfect blend of grit and swagger, choppy rhythm chops punctuated by short, sharp bends that made the riff swing with almost physical force. Brother Ben Schulze on drums, drove a punchy backbeat, snare cracking with precise ferocity, while Ant’s bass crawled beneath it, a thick rolling pulse that anchored the groove with deadly accuracy. Vocally, Zac leaned into the mic with a half-growl, half-snarling delivery that gave the lyrics a dangerous, bar-room edge, it was blues with teeth. Live, the song expanded far beyond its recorded version. Zac stretched the solo, letting notes linger, bending them almost painfully before darting into rapid-fire runs. Every bend, every slide, was amplified by the Town Hall’s natural reverb, making the guitar roar through the lofty interior like it owned the space. The audience leaned forward collectively, sensing the band’s energy, and when the song hit its final crashing chord, it felt like a warning: this was going to be a night of pure, unfiltered rock ‘n’ roll.
“Woman,” from 2022, followed like a strut into the room. The groove was slightly looser, more swagger than stomp, and Zac’s half-grinned, half-snarling vocal delivery carried a magnetic sense of charm. The guitar tone here was crunchy, biting just enough to complement the rhythm section’s barroom shuffle. Ant’s bass prowled underneath with a low, rolling heartbeat while Ben kept the shuffle swinging, his sticks adding tiny accents that gave the groove life and lift. Zac played the rhythm chops in that Wilko Johnson-style, sharp and percussive, letting each note snap through the air like a whip. The solo section came roaring in, Zac crouching and leaning close to the monitor wedges as the notes spat from his amp, each bend stretching, howling, almost like a conversation with the hall itself. The audience picked up on the interplay instantly, nodding, grinning, and feeding back energy into the room. There’s a particular thrill when a young band takes a slightly swaggering original like this and elevates it to something kinetic live, raw, brash, yet rooted in blues tradition. By the end, the track had the crowd fully attentive, hanging on the next move.
Then came their take on the 1963 Rufus Thomas classic “Walking the Dog,” and the room erupted. The original is a smooth soul groove, but Zac Schulze Gang took it and injected full-blown feral energy. The riff hit hard, crunchy and jagged, and Zac wasn’t content to simply play the vocal lines, throughout the performance he barked intermittently into the mic. Literal, sharp, guttural barks that echoed across the hall, thrilling and hilarious in equal measure, adding a wild, unhinged edge to the song. Ant’s bass prowled under the riff like a stalking dog, while Ben’s drums accentuated every swing with playful snare hits and cymbal crashes. Zac’s guitar solos were full of improvisational twists, snarling bends, and slides that leapt across the fretboard, each note punctuated with exaggerated expressions, grimaces, and stage antics. The call-and-response sections became a conversation between instrument, vocalist, and audience, and by the end of the track the standing crowd was fully caught up, laughing, cheering, and completely engaged. “Walking the Dog” became a miniature theatrical performance, a highlight of chaos and raw, kinetic blues energy, a song that perfectly captured the Zac Schulze Gang’s unique live charisma.
Wilko Johnson’s influence was unavoidable when the band tore into “She Does It Right,” originally from Dr. Feelgood’s Down by the Jetty (1975). Zac’s rhythm chops were sharp, precise, and brutally percussive, hammering the riff in that unmistakable choppy style. He moved across the stage like a man possessed, crouching low, jerking in time with every note, making his guitar almost part of his body. The rhythm section matched his intensity, driving the beat hard while leaving just enough space for the guitar to snap and pop. The vocals were delivered with snarling charm, rough, aggressive, with enough humour and character to hold the room in thrall. Live, the song expanded beyond the recorded version; Zac’s solos wound through jagged blues lines, punctuated with playful chromatic stabs and bends that leapt from the fretboard. The crowd responded visibly, some nodding in recognition, others shouting along, and the whole room had that pub rock vibe even in the cavernous Town Hall, chaotic, tight, and irresistible. Every detail from the posture to the phrasing felt intentional, making the performance feel both homage and reinvention at the same time.
Another original from 2023, “Hole in My Pocket” had the band stretching the groove just enough to make it feel loose and live. The riff rolled forward on a steady pulse, Zac’s lines wandering freely, alternating between tight rhythmic stabs and wailing blues phrases that twisted and dipped unpredictably. Ben’s drums were both steady and playful, adding ghost notes and syncopated hits that kept the groove swinging without ever locking into monotony. Ant’s bass prowled underneath, rolling deep and solid, like a river dragging the groove along. Vocally, Zac balanced grit and melody, the delivery conversational yet emphatic, almost teasing the audience before blasting into the chorus. The solo sections were expansive, Zac pulling every nuance from the amp, squeals, bends, muted percussive bursts, and raw, throaty squeals that made the song feel alive and spontaneous. There was real interaction between the three, subtle cues and glances exchanged in the moment. The audience felt it too, leaning into each crescendo, cheering each bend, and by the close, the song had left the floor buzzing, a perfect balance of groove, improvisation, and unbridled rock energy.
When the bands tribute to the great Rory Gallagher, “Ballyshannon Blues” arrived, the vibe slowed just enough to let the groove breathe, but tension remained. Released in 2024, it’s a shuffle-heavy number, and live it had that late-night barroom vibe, smoky, warm, and hypnotic. Zac’s guitar tone softened slightly, less crunchy, allowing every note to resonate fully. The song’s rhythm rolled like a lazy river, Ant’s bass thumping low and steady while Ben’s hi-hat and snare added subtle swing that pulled the song forward with gentle force. Vocally, Ant leaned into the storytelling, gravelly and expressive, as if leaning across the bar to tell you a secret. The solos were elongated, melodic, bending notes just long enough to make the crowd lean in, then releasing into staccato bursts of energy. There was a tactile quality to the performance: each phrase felt deliberate, every bend held purpose. The audience leaned in, caught between the intimacy of the song and the looming energy of the rest of the set. By the end, the hall was humming with quiet anticipation, this was the calm before the storm.
And then, “Hellhounds on My Trail” completely flipped the energy. Zac’s guitar lines were eerie and haunting, each note creeping across the room like fog rolling through graveyard streets. Ben’s drums kept a deliberate, hypnotic pulse while Ant’s bass rumbled like distant thunder. Zac’s solos ripped through the tension, long slides and snarling bends creating a sense of chase and suspense. The dynamics were cinematic, quiet, tense passages that suddenly erupted into blistering blues riffs, keeping the audience leaning forward, caught in the song’s dark thrill. There was menace in the playing, theatricality in the phrasing, and sheer rock energy in the execution. The crowd was alive with anticipation, responding to every dramatic pause and crescendo with audible gasps and cheers. It was a masterclass in live storytelling through blues-rock, proving that Zac Schulze Gang could command both intensity and atmosphere at the same time.
The set closer, Fleetwood Mac’s 1969 classic “Oh Well”, detonated the hall. From the instantly recognisable opening riff, the three-piece hit the floor running. Zac’s guitar cut razor-sharp through the lofty Town Hall acoustics while remaining warm and resonant. The rhythm section was locked and tight; drums and bass providing a monstrous backbone for Zac’s solos, which twisted and darted across the fretboard, bending, sliding, and screaming in full throttle blues-rock glory. His stage presence was at full Wilko Johnson-style theatre’ crouching, lunging, face contorted with pure expression’ each note a performance in itself. The dynamics constantly shifted, riffs crashing into solos, moments of restraint giving way to explosions of speed and volume. The audience was fully engaged, clapping, cheering, shouting along, caught in the wave of energy rolling off the stage. When the final chord rang out, the hall shook, and it felt as though the band had left everything on the stage. This wasn’t just a closer, it was a staement: the Zac Schulze Gang are alive, dangerous, and totally unmissable.
As the lights dropped and the roar from the crowd rolled through the Birmingham Town Hall, the anticipation that had been building all evening finally burst into life. The floor was packed shoulder to shoulder now, the seats having been removed to turn the hall into a full standing venue, and the atmosphere felt far closer to a sweaty blues club than a grand Victorian concert hall. Above the stage curtains the huge pipes of the Town Hall’s famous organ loomed like some enormous cathedral backdrop, towering over the stark white Samantha Fish stage cloth. It was an incredible sight — old world architecture hanging above a modern blues rock show.
When Samantha Fish walked out with her band the reaction was immediate. There’s something about her presence that feels completely natural. No forced rock star posturing, just someone who clearly loves playing guitar and knows exactly how to command a room when she plugs in. She’s currently touring behind her latest album, Paper Doll (2025) released on Rounder Records back in April 2025, and with that, the show wasted no time getting started.
They exploded straight into “Kick Out the Jams,” the ferocious proto-punk anthem originally recorded by MC5 on their 1969 debut album. Using it as an opener felt like throwing petrol on the crowd. The riff roared out of the speakers and Samantha attacked it with serious attitude, her guitar tone thick, dirty and gloriously loud. The band sounded enormous inside the Town Hall acoustics. Jamie Douglass drove the beat with heavy, pounding drums while Ron Johnson’s bass locked into a deep groove that gave the whole thing real weight. Samantha prowled the stage, shoulders rocking to the beat, her voice cutting through the mix with gritty swagger. When the solo arrived, she leaned back and let rip with a scorching burst of blues-rock fury, bending notes hard and letting them scream before tearing into a fast run of licks that had the crowd cheering halfway through the song. It was the perfect opening statement, loud, raw and completely unapologetic. She stepped up to the microphone afterwards and greeted the crowd with that warm southern drawl that always makes her stage banter feel relaxed and genuine. Even in a big venue it somehow feels like she’s chatting to people across the bar.
From there the band slid into “Paper Doll,” the title track from her 2025 album. Before the first chord Samantha switched guitars, something she would do constantly through the night. Each instrument brought a slightly different character to the sound and the one she chose here gave the song a smoky, blues-soaked tone that suited it perfectly. The groove rolled out slowly, mid-tempo and confident, with Mickey Finn’s organ swelling underneath to give it a rich vintage feel. Samantha’s voice had a cool swagger as she delivered the verses, the lyrics unfolding with that laid-back confidence that defines much of her writing. Live, the track felt bigger than the album version. The chorus hit with real punch and when the solo arrived, she stretched it well beyond the recorded take. The guitar lines were fluid and expressive, bending slowly before bursting into sharper blues phrases that danced across the groove. You could see people around the room nodding in appreciation, the guitar fans were already grinning.
The band barely paused before kicking into “I’m Done Runnin’,” the opening track from Paper Doll. The change in energy was immediate. This one rides on a strong slide guitar riff and Samantha leaned into it hard, the metal slide flashing under the stage lights as she dragged gritty, wailing notes out of the strings. The rhythm section pushed the tempo slightly faster than the studio version which gave the whole performance a real sense of urgency. The floor started moving as the crowd locked into the groove. Samantha’s vocal delivery carried that smoky strength she’s known for, powerful but never forced, sitting perfectly on top of the driving beat. When the solo section arrived, she let it rip properly, firing off a string of scorching slide runs that echoed around the hall. It was one of those moments where the sound seems to physically lift the room. Next came “Sweet Southern Sounds,” another track from Paper Doll and one that shifted the mood into something warmer and more soulful. Samantha swapped guitars again before starting it, choosing one with a slightly cleaner tone that allowed the melody to shine through. The groove rolled along gently with a strong southern feel, Mickey Finn’s organ providing lush chords that filled the hall beautifully. Samantha’s voice softened here, delivering the song with relaxed charm. It felt like a moment of breathing space in the set, the band settling into a smooth, almost hypnotic rhythm. The guitar solo was all about feel rather than speed, slow bends, rich vibrato and notes that hung in the air for seconds at a time. The whole hall seemed to lean into it, soaking up the atmosphere.
That calm didn’t last long though because the band slammed straight into “Bulletproof,” from Samantha’s 2019 album Kill or Be Kind. The riff hit hard and loud, snapping the room back to full-throttle blues rock. Samantha’s guitar tone here was thick and aggressive, cutting through the mix with razor precision. Ron Johnson’s bass and Jamie Douglass’ drums locked together to create a driving groove that felt almost unstoppable. Samantha attacked the vocal with real bite, delivering the lyrics with fierce conviction before stepping forward for a blistering solo. She leaned back, eyes closed, wringing huge bends out of the strings while the band held the groove steady underneath. The crowd reaction was massive, cheers breaking out halfway through the solo as she pushed the guitar harder and harder. Then came “Fortune Teller,” another piece from Paper Doll, and the mood shifted again into something darker and more hypnotic. The groove was slower, thicker, almost creeping along with a sense of tension. Samantha prowled the stage while singing, letting the words roll out with a slightly sinister edge. The guitar tone here was deep and brooding, perfectly matching the atmosphere of the song. The band built the track patiently, layering sound until the instrumental break opened things up. Mickey Finn’s organ swirled through the hall while Samantha delivered a beautifully controlled solo, balancing melody and bite. It felt cinematic in scale, the sound filling every corner of the room.
The swagger returned with “Better Be Lonely,” from 2021’s Faster. This one had a playful attitude running through it, Samantha delivering the vocal with a grin that suggested she was enjoying every second. The groove bounced along with gritty blues rock confidence, Ron Johnson’s bass line giving it a thick rolling feel while Jamie Douglass snapped the snare with sharp precision. Samantha swapped guitars again before tearing into the solo, this one sharper and more biting in tone. The licks came fast and fiery, packed with classic blues phrasing but delivered with modern power. It was the sort of performance that makes you remember just how formidable she is as a guitarist. Next up was “No Angels,” from 2017’s, Belle of The West , and this one leaned hard into the rock side of Samantha’s sound. The riff had a garage-rock bite to it, loud and aggressive, and the band attacked it with serious force. Samantha moved constantly across the stage during this number, feeding off the crowd’s energy and pushing the band harder. Her vocal delivery was one of the most powerful of the night so far, belting the chorus with real conviction. When the solo section hit, she went full throttle, firing off blues-rock runs that bounced around the hall’s natural reverb. The crowd response was huge, people shouting, clapping and clearly loving the intensity. Then the atmosphere shifted dramatically as Samantha reached for something different.
She picked up a cigar box guitar and slipped a slide onto her finger before launching into “Poor Black Mattie,” the hypnotic hill-country blues tune made famous by R. L. Burnside. The moment that first buzzing note rang out the entire feel of the room changed. The sound of the cigar box guitar is raw and primitive in the best possible way. Through the Town Hall’s acoustics, it sounded huge and haunting, the notes rattling and humming like some ghostly blues spirit drifting through the room. Samantha leaned into the slide playing, dragging long, eerie notes from the strings while the band locked into a slow hypnotic stomp behind her. Ron Johnson’s bass pulsed steadily while Jamie Douglass kept the beat steady and heavy, creating a trance-like groove. Samantha’s voice floated over the top, rough and soulful, giving the song a deep authenticity. The performance grew gradually in intensity, the band building the groove until the whole room was completely locked into the rhythm. It felt less like a song and more like some ancient blues ritual unfolding right there in Birmingham.
As the set pushed toward its final stretch the atmosphere inside the Birmingham Town Hall had shifted into that electric place where you know something big is coming. The floor was packed tight now, pints raised, people pressed close to the stage barrier. You could see the massive organ pipes still towering above the stage curtains, looming like some grand cathedral backdrop to what had become a gritty, sweaty blues rock show. Samantha had already taken the crowd through soul, slide blues, garage rock and heavy blues grooves, but the last stretch of the set felt like the band deliberately cranking the intensity one notch at a time.
The turning point came with “Rusty Razor,” from her 2025 album Paper Doll. If the earlier part of the set had shown the range of Samantha’s playing, this was where she started turning the dial toward full-blown rock authority. The riff itself is sharp and cutting, a perfect title for the sound it produces. Live, it hit the room like a switchblade flicking open. Samantha had swapped guitars again before starting it, this one delivering a biting, mid-range heavy tone that sliced straight through the mix. You could feel the difference instantly. The band kicked into the groove hard, Jamie Douglass snapping the snare with that crisp crack that makes your chest jump while Ron Johnson’s bass dug in deep underneath it. What really lifted the song live was the way Samantha played the riff with real physical attitude, leaning into every chord as if she was pushing the guitar forward into the audience. Her vocal delivery had a playful snarl to it, half smirk, half swagger, like she knew exactly how dangerous the groove felt. When the solo arrived, she didn’t rush it. Instead, she stretched it out, bending notes slowly, letting them hang in the air while Mickey Finn’s organ swelled behind her. Then suddenly she flipped the switch and tore into a fast run of blues licks that had the front rows shouting. By the end of the song the crowd had gone from attentive to fully fired up again. It felt like the band had just pulled everyone back to the edge of their seats ready for the next punch.
That punch landed with “Don’t Say It,” the closing track from Paper Doll (2025), and if “Rusty Razor” had sharpened the blade then this was where Samantha drove it straight into the emotional heart of the room. The song begins with a slower, more atmospheric groove and live it created this brief moment where the hall collectively leaned in. Samantha switched guitars again, this one giving her a warmer tone that sat beautifully alongside Mickey Finn’s keys. The opening lines came out almost conversationally, her voice carrying that smoky weight she has when she leans into a lyric. You could hear people around me go quiet because the song demanded it. The band built the arrangement gradually, each verse adding another layer of tension. Ron Johnson’s bass line rolled underneath like distant thunder while the drums kept things steady and deliberate. When the chorus arrived, the whole sound expanded into something huge, Samantha belting the vocal with real conviction. Then came the guitar break and it was one of those moments where she completely owned the room. Instead of playing something flashy she went for pure feel, long bends, slow vibrato, notes that seemed to hang in the air forever. The solo told its own story, rising slowly in intensity until it burst into a flurry of blues runs that sent cheers echoing around the hall. By the time the final chorus hit the whole place was singing along with her. It felt big, emotional and powerful, exactly the kind of song you want late in a headline set.
Then came the moment that felt like the band planting their flag firmly in blues rock territory with “Black Wind Howlin’,” the title track from Samantha’s 2013 album. Before the first note she took a second to introduce the band properly, Mickey Finn on keyboards, Ron Johnson on bass and Jamie Douglass on drums, each of them getting a big cheer from the Birmingham crowd. And they deserved it, because what followed turned into a massive, rolling blues jam that felt like the centrepiece of the entire show. The opening riff growled out of Samantha’s amp like a warning siren. It’s a riff that feels both heavy and hypnotic at the same time, and live it sounded enormous in the Town Hall’s acoustics. The band locked into the groove with total confidence, Jamie Douglass pushing the beat forward while Mickey Finn filled the background with rich organ chords that seemed to swirl around the hall. Samantha prowled the stage as she sang, her voice riding over the groove with gritty conviction. When the instrumental section arrived, the band stretched the song wide open. Mickey Finn took a glorious organ run that had a real vintage Hammond feel, followed by Ron Johnson laying down a thick, rumbling bass groove that had the whole floor moving. Then Samantha stepped forward again and unleashed a solo that felt like a storm breaking. She wrung huge bends from the guitar, letting the notes scream and howl exactly like the title promised. It was blues rock played at full throttle and the crowd absolutely loved it. When the final riff crashed down the cheers were thunderous.
But the night wasn’t finished yet. The band walked off to a roar that made it obvious Birmingham wanted more. The chants started almost immediately. People stamping their feet on the wooden floor, clapping and shouting. After a minute the lights flickered again and the band returned to the stage with big grins. And then something special happened.
From the side of the stage Zac Schulze reappeared, guitar strapped on, joining Samantha and the band for the encore. The crowd recognised him instantly and the cheer doubled in volume. Without any fuss they launched straight into “Bitch on the Run,” from Samantha’s 2015 album Wild Heart. What followed wasn’t just a song, it was a full-blown guitar showdown. The riff itself is already one of Samantha’s meanest grooves, built around a thick blues rock stomp that begs to be played loud. Tonight, it sounded absolutely monstrous. With two guitarists on stage the sound doubled in size, Zac laying down gritty rhythm lines while Samantha drove the lead parts. The chemistry between them was obvious straight away.
They circled each other like fighters in a ring, trading riffs and pushing the groove harder and harder. When the solo section opened the sparks really started flying. Samantha fired off a blazing run of blues licks before stepping back and nodding toward Zac, who responded with a ripping solo of his own full of gritty bends and fast, biting phrases. The crowd were loving every second, cheering each time the two traded lines. Then the band pushed the groove into a full jam. Mickey Finn hammered the organ; Ron Johnson’s bass rolled like thunder and Jamie Douglass drove the whole thing forward while the two guitarists went toe to toe. Samantha leaned back and ripped out one final soaring solo that climbed higher and higher before crashing down into the closing riff. When the band slammed the final chord, the sound echoed around the hall like a cannon blast.
For a moment there was that stunned pause that happens after something truly great. Then the entire room erupted. People shouting, clapping, whistling, stamping their feet. Under those towering organ pipes, with that white Samantha Fish backdrop glowing behind the band, it felt like the perfect climax to a night that had built slowly, deliberately and brilliantly toward that explosive ending. Samantha Fish hadn’t just delivered a headline set. She’d taken Birmingham Town Hall on a full ride through modern blues rock and finished it with a jam that felt like pure electricity.
