(Credits: Far Out / Tom White / Ele Palmer)
Mon 21 April 2025 9:00, UK
‘What the fuck is egg punk?’ is invariably the response I get when telling my friends about my listening habits of late. Emerging from Internet memes in the early 2010s, the endearingly energetic genre was born from a manifesto of DIY garage rock and, crucially, not taking yourself too seriously. Given its origins on the web, it did not take long for egg punk to infect the far-flung corners of the globe, which brings us here, on this sunny day in Leeds, where I am gearing up to talk to the city’s latest musical export, The Oidz.
Going back to the early days of punk rock, Leeds has always boasted a unique and compelling music scene. In recent years, post-punk heroes like Yard Act and Mercury Prize winners English Teacher have helped to reestablish the glorious Yorkshire city as a haven for independent music. Having called West Yorkshire my home since birth, I have spent countless hours standing at the back of venues while various up-and-coming Leeds bands have attempted to establish themselves.
It was at the beloved DIY venue Mabgate Bleach that I first encountered The Oidz, playing a matinee show alongside Bathing Suits last August. Instantly, I found myself hooked on their endlessly energetic and seemingly spontaneous garage rock sound. So, my return to Mabgate Bleach, this time to interview the band on the eve of their debut EP release, felt like a very full-circle moment.
Guitarist Ben Parry, and drummer Luc Gibbons greeted me outside the venue, cans of Kronenberg at the ready. The pair informed me that the other half of The Oidz – bassist Jack Devlin and vocalist/synth-master Summer Crane were unavailable, as Devlin was delivering a fruit machine to a pub, while Crane prefers to “remain mysterious”.
Mabgate Bleach, as the band told me, is an essential aspect of the DIY scene in Leeds, and it also pertains to virtually every aspect of The Oidz’s existence. “We were coming in since we were all at uni. So all of our bands that we’ve all been in previously were started here, our first gigs were here, and now we rehearse here semi-regularly,” Gibbons told me. “Since Chunk closed its doors, here and Wharf Chambers are like the two DIY hubs in Leeds.”
(Credits: Far Out / Tom White / Elle Palmer)
“The best community in Leeds,” he declared. “You get electrical shocks from here, there and everywhere. It’s definitely not a safe place to be. There’s a hardcore show going on, and the PA is strapped together by a bunch of fucking ratchet straps,” the drummer laughed.
Parry, who also works as a sound tech at the venue, fondly recalled a particularly chaotic gig at Bleach. “There was a Judy and the Jerks show here and a bunch of the hardcore kids went out and hired the Lime Bikes from just out there, and cycled them in. There was a mosh pit of a bunch of guys, all doing wheelies and shit. It was really cute.” Though, he did concede, “It’s kind of annoying as a sound guy.”
On the topic of sound, Parry went on to tell me that the band’s self-titled EP – which marks the inaugural release on Prison Records, operated by fellow garage rockers Prison Affair – was largely recorded in his basement, while the band was all very drunk. “We didn’t record it with the intent of releasing it,” he shared. “I just recorded a rehearsal that we did, and then we mixed it quick, and then I think Jack was like, ‘I’d be happy to just put this out, and this will be the first record,’ and we did that.”
Recording such an energetic, loud group like The Oidz comes with its challenges, particularly when attempting to recapture the intense energy of their live performances. “When you make loud music, it’s hard to make a record sound as loud as it is in a room, as it is when you’re actually seeing it live or whatever,” Gibbons confirmed. “I think with the stuff that we make, and other bands that were inspired by, they do it well because the recorded stuff is a completely different thing.”
In fact, it seems as though the very fact that The Oidz EP was recorded while drunk in a basement adds to its grassroots appeal and spontaneity. “In a normal studio environment, it feels pretty clinical,” Parry, who also performs and records with Leeds outfit Fuzz Lightyear, shared. “But when you’re recording, at least the way we did it, was kind of just like, ‘Let’s just do it. Let’s just send it, and whatever we get out of it, that’s what we’re gonna use.’”
That message of spontaneity and no expectations appears to be the sonic manifesto of The Oidz, as Parry confirmed to me. “The whole thought process behind The Oidz is: don’t think. Think as little as possible about what you’re doing and just enjoy it,” he shared with a smile.
According to the band members, that attitude is what united the musicians together in the first place. “We came together, all individually having our own projects,” Parry shared. “Luc and Summer had a couple of tunes. Jack had a couple of tunes, and I had a couple of tunes. I think I just messaged Luc one day, and I was like, ‘That’s it. I’m forming that egg punk band. Let’s just do it.’”
(Credits: Far Out / Tom White)
“It was a silly little project to start with, and I think that comes across in the recordings,” Gibbons continued, reflecting on the early origins of the band. “We don’t overcook shit, and we don’t think too much about it because then it still has that raw energy. I hate to use that term.” Despite his hatred of the term, the band’s newly released EP on Prison Records is certainly imbued with that raw, spontaneous and, for want of a better word, fun spirit.
Seemingly, that quality comes from the freedom inherent in the band’s writing process. “My favourite way to write is just to not say no to an idea,” the drummer shared. “Just put your trust in the other writers in the room, like someone has an idea, the chances are it’s coming from a credible influence. We try not to say no to each other that much. It might be that you end up with the track that you actually realise you’re not that keen on, and then you just end up dropping it, and that’s fine too.”
In addition to being the manifesto of The Oidz, that spontaneous, no-expectations attitude is reflective of the wider egg punk scene. Despite starting out as an obscure internet subculture of DIY musicians, the style is rapidly gaining traction with widespread audiences and local scenes within the UK. “People are getting into rock and roll again,” Gibbons summarised.
Concurring with his bandmate, Parry chimed in, “It’s a bit of a response to all of the post-punk shit, like bands like Black Country [New Road] and Black Midi, where it’s from really highly educated musicians, and there’s something kind of out of touch about that. It doesn’t really feel particularly relevant sometimes.” Adding, “There’s something to be said for not wanting to write just loads of depressing songs with slow bass and really gothic, dark lyrics.”
Citing one of their egg-punk contemporaries, Parry explained, “When you listen to guys like Billiam, you can tell he’s just like a – he’s probably not a teenager, he’s probably a little older now – but it’s just a teenager in a bedroom making fucking sick punk songs, and that’s kind of it. It doesn’t have to be much more than that.”
One of the greatest things about this renaissance of garage rock and egg punk is its accessibility. The Oidz have already discussed the fact that they enter into recording and performing with no expectations while often under the influence of copious amounts of canned lager. It is about as far away from the elitism and snobbery of the modern post-punk scene as you can get.
“That’s the best thing about garage rock, isn’t it? Anyone can make it,” Parry shared in a rousing moment of inspiration. “As long as you’re doing it with feeling, and you fucking mean it, then anyone can make it.”
The Oidz are living proof of that hypothesis, and they don’t show signs of slowing down anytime soon. They are truly among the most exciting new bands in the increasingly saturated Leeds music scene at current, with their spontaneous, endearingly unserious approach to creating garage rock anthems separating them from the rest of the crowd. Make sure you don’t miss the spaceship.
Related Topics
Subscribe To The Far Out Newsletter