Left Of The Dial: Lost in Rotterdam

Shaking Hand by Liv Kenny

Rotterdam is a city that wears its creativity proudly. Even under the late-October downpour that swept across the Netherlands, its brilliance refused to dim. Few places embrace art and music with such wholehearted enthusiasm. The people are friendly, curious, and fiercely supportive of underground culture, and they certainly know how to throw a festival. Which is why Left of the Dial might be my favourite music festival on the planet.

A Festival Like No Other

Left of the Dial isn’t your typical city-centre festival. Spread across dozens of venues; dive bars, vast churches, boats, theatres, libraries, and even moving buses. It transforms Rotterdam into a playground for discovery. The stages alone rival the acts; intimate, cavernous, ornate, gritty. Some offer cathedral-worthy acoustics; others channel the sweat-stained, lightning-in-a-bottle energy you associate with the Sex Pistols at the Lesser Free Trade Hall. It’s the perfect setting for a festival built entirely around new music and the thrill of finding the next band you’ll obsess over.

New Voices, New Venues

One of my standout discoveries this year was Big Long Sun, the Brighton project led by Jamie Broughton. Their set at Arminius, a breathtaking church at the festival’s heart, was a full sensory hit. Doomy, chaotic energy filled the room, magnified by strobe lights ricocheting off archways. Their new single ‘my stars aligning’ continues that intensity: haunting yet warm, raw and poetic, carried by harmonised vocals and restless, winding riffs.

From there, the festival only grew stranger in the best possible way. The most surreal gig of the weekend unfolded aboard a moving boat, where Liverpool’s DBA delivered a gloriously unhinged set. Their rough-edged indie rhythms had a cabin full of Left of the Dial bucket hats bouncing in unison as the ferry pitched across the water. Staying upright felt optional; having fun was not.

DBA by Liv Kenny

The Joy of Overstimulation

It’s impossible to capture every great moment from the weekend - there were too many. European Taxis tore through a set on a docked boat venue. Oliver Wilde stunned at Paradijskerk, possibly the most beautiful church I’ve ever stepped inside. Kean Kavanagh drew a packed crowd to Rotown. And Martial Arts, a personal favourite, proved how far their sound and stage presence have evolved since I last saw them. The room was rammed, the energy electric, and their post-punk pulse hit with new depth.

Manchester’s Shaking Hand were unmissable. With their debut album on the horizon, they delivered two contrasting performances. At Roodkapje, their shoegaze-meets-post-punk swell filled a stark white room with infectious intensity. In the small theatre inside Rotterdam’s library, they became something different; more intimate, more immersive, the impeccable acoustics exposing every layer of their sound.

Then there was Yaang, arguably the name on everyone’s lips. They played three shows, including one on a moving bus that I sadly missed but heard countless revellers rave about. I caught them in a larger venue where frontman Davey’s chaotic charisma instantly swallowed the room. Their genre-warping, high-energy set sparked a danceable post-punk wave that made it obvious why they were one of the most talked-about acts of the festival.

Yaang by Liv Kenny

A True Celebration of the Underground

What Left of the Dial achieves is genuinely rare. They curate an eclectic mix of underground artists from across Europe with precision and passion, spotlighting acts who are often at the very beginning of their musical journeys. Many are working on debut albums; many are honing sounds that feel fresh, strange, and exciting. The festival offers them a platform, and gives audiences the thrill of discovering something new without a single headliner telling them where to go.

There are no VIP areas, no bloated marketing campaigns, no hierarchy. Every band plays multiple sets, making clashes bearable and spontaneity inevitable. It’s just music, community, and curiosity; three things Rotterdam seems to excel at.

Left of the Dial is more than a festival. It’s a living, breathing love letter to the underground. And if you ask me, there’s nowhere better to get lost.