Fletchr Fletchr - Secret Set

Liverpool Sound City - The Jacaranda - 2nd May 2026

Story by Chloe Liston

18/05/2026

Not every secret set feels worth the scramble. Fletchr Fletchr’s did. Ever since a clip of unreleased track Life tore through the internet during their support slot for Imagine Dragons, a quiet but dedicated fanbase has been building, and with their upcoming EP An Island We Call Home on the horizon, that momentum is starting to feel tangible.

Their official Liverpool Sound City set had quickly hit capacity in the afternoon and had to turn people away. So when word spread of a secret late-night set, it wasn’t a casual decision. It was a must. Even though it was midway through Sound City headliner Keo’s set, by 10:30pm the queue had already crowded onto The Jacaranda basement stairs. With some fans pleading with security, desperate for early access, while others were hungrily pressed up to windows trying to catch fragments of soundcheck. When the doors opened at 10:45, the room filled up with a mix of those who’d been turned away earlier, the clash casualties, the die-hards doubling up, and those who’d dropped everything on a few hours’ notice just to be there. They opened with Jet Black and the response was instant, voices up and locked like it was a years-old radio classic. That same energy bled into their unreleased material, tracks that are already well known to the fan base via live runs, demo CDs and reels. You could see the band clock it; disbelief that unreleased lyrics were coming back at them, word-perfect, from a packed basement. Their music leans hard into human flaws, all rough edges and open wounds, and because of that, the polished versions almost feel beside the point. It’s the live setting where it makes sense, where the cracks are left in and the weight can actually land.

So when Life lands. Introduced by Rohan Fletcher, as a song written about loss. About holding it, reshaping it, surviving it. And when it hits, it doesn’t feel like a performance anymore. The vocals crack and fray at the edges. Bandmates glance at each other like quiet check-ins. I can’t count the number of fans I saw in tears, holding onto each other, letting it wash over them. It’s raw in a way that Spotify could never deliver. They close with Whenever, Whenever., one of their more experimental tracks, a stark contrast to break the tension. It shakes some of the weight loose without undoing it, giving the set somewhere to land without losing the afterglow. And that’s the thing: right now, Fletchr Fletchr still exist in these cramped, word-of-mouth spaces. But it’s easy to see how quickly that window is closing. Once they break through on a wider scale, it will happen fast, and rooms like this won’t be an option anymore. Messy, packed, a little chaotic, but already straining against the size of the space holding it. Catch them in a room this small while you still can.