Pigeon, Metallica Covers, and Concert Chaos: A Handstamp Interview

Some experiences quietly recalibrate your perspective, making you feel overwhelmingly grateful for the truly special moments in life. For me, it took a recent epiphany—fueled by watching seemingly chaotic videos featuring bizarre performers—to realize just how fortunate I am to have witnessed so many incredible live acts at their absolute peak.

It’s this appreciation that guides where I look now. It reminds us that the raw energy of live music remains an unmatched force, regardless of the surrounding noise or trends.

This feeling is particularly relevant when considering bands like Pigeon. This culturally diverse group, blending afro-disco, jazz infusions, and post-punk sensibilities, is currently enjoying immense critical acclaim, having been championed by publications like Rolling Stone, the BBC, and The Times. They have genuinely gale force winds in their sails.

To understand where this appreciation comes from, it helps to look back at how music first entered my life. When speaking with Josh Ludlow, the band’s bassist and a key figure in their journey, the memories are vividly clear. Growing up in West London, his musical exposure was steeped in family; his father played guitar, sang constantly, and they were always involved in bands from a young age.

By the time he was ten or eleven, he was already playing with his brother. While the sound might have been filtered through Blink 182 and Green Day at the time, the experience of playing live was formative. His earliest live exposure wasn’t polished; it was raw fun—first gigs were often open mics and Battle of the Bands at places like Heatham House in Twickenham, filled with teenagers having a blast.

Those early experiences were characterized by a sort of collective euphoria. Ludlow recalls attending festivals like Reading when he was fourteen, where the energy was palpable. This era of live music was untethered; people were more present than ever before.

He remembers being part of the scene that embraced rock and metal, starting with their own thrash band, Mutant. They toured extensively, which naturally led them to heavier festivals and events like Reading. During those times, cultural touchstones like Slipknot were massive, generating an almost spiritual feeling when they took the stage.

The experience of immersion in a festival before smartphones brought a unique intensity. Ludlow notes that at his first major event, there was no digital distraction, creating a heightened sense of presence. He recalls the thrill of collective rumors spreading across campsites—celebrity deaths, surprise headliners—which made the atmosphere truly epic.

Even more memorable were the wilder, unplanned moments of festival life. There was a shared memory involving Slipknot and an unexpected plane announcement at Leeds, which resulted in a collective groan—a testament to how unpredictable and wonderfully chaotic live events can be.

The joy of those early festivals contrasts sharply with some modern experiences. When discussing more recent immersive events like Burning Man, Ludlow reflects on the divide: there is an understandable yearning for that primal connection, but he notes that the logistics of large-scale outdoor music are becoming increasingly challenging—dealing with dust, equipment, and environment.

Ultimately, what remains undeniable is the power of a truly brilliant live band. Whether it’s seeing technical mastery shine through or simply sharing a moment of pure, unfiltered energy, the feeling never gets old. For Ludlow, witnessing the sheer talent of performers like Pigeon, especially when they bring such dynamic skill to the stage, continues to blow him away.

It is this ability—to connect with technical brilliance and raw enthusiasm—that guarantees live music will always hold a unique, unforgettable place in our world.