Some gigs begin with anticipation. This one began with perspiration.
London was wilting under another relentless heatwave and, loitering in the press pit at Islington Assembly Hall, even the industrial fans positioned in front of the stage felt more like Pifco hairdryers than lifesavers. Dressed as I was, in the flimsiest of shirts, a slow melt began long before the house lights had even dimmed.
Then the PA unexpectedly began pumping out ‘Three Lions’, not the usual Sweet Caroline or Settin’ The Woods On Fire that may have been expected. The place temporarily transformed into a mini football terrace. Yes, England were still marching on, the random pints was hoisted skywards and there were voices in the hall that couldn’t help but join in. It was one of those wonderfully British moments. For a couple of minutes, Islington Assembly Hall forgot it was hosting a country gig.
In an industry obsessed with image, Alana Springsteen's looks quickly became the least interesting thing about her."
Then Alana Springsteen walked on. I’ll admit something. I arrived carrying baggage.
The glossy publicity shots. The Nashville machine. The perfect hair. The endless social media sheen. I’d quietly convinced myself I was about to spend the evening witnessing another polished, half-vocoded country Barbie – beautifully packaged, meticulously marketed and ultimately forgettable.
I was wrong. Actually, I was wrong before the first song had even finished. Within a few short minutes every lazy assumption I’d made simply disappeared. Alana Springsteen is a musician. A proper one at that.
Yes, she's striking. Of course she photographs beautifully. But after ten minutes none of that mattered."
That Gretsch sure was sexy, but the guitar wasn’t merely there for the photographs. That’s where the songs begin. She plays with confidence, precision and purpose. Her voice has warmth, character and honesty -refreshingly free from the over-produced gloss that so often survives the trip from studio to stage. There’s nowhere to hide in a venue the size of Islington Assembly Hall, and she never once looked like she wanted to. More importantly, she never needed to.
Alana carries herself with a confidence that can’t really be taught. Relaxed between songs, genuinely funny and effortlessly engaging, she chatted to the audience as though she’d been playing London for years. Nothing felt scripted. Nothing felt manufactured. Try as you might, there wasn’t a trace of the pageant smile or rehearsed Nashville sparkle I’d expected. And that’s exactly why she was so captivating.
From Ghost In My Guitar, through Thinkin’ Straight, Sad Hour and the beautifully judged I Loved You Then, the set never really lost its momentum. There was heartbreak, humour and enough hooks to satisfy the country faithful while still carrying enough crossover appeal to win over anyone who’d wandered in off the baking pavement out of curiosity.
Spend enough years squeezed into photo pits and you become a little cynical. You watch artists arrive wrapped in hype and leave wrapped in polite applause."
There was another little subplot unfolding too. Breland could be seen hovering backstage for much of the evening, making his eventual guest appearance feel almost inevitable. The crowd loved it, and rightly so. It was a lovely moment.
But here’s the thing. It was just a bonus, not a rescue mission. Springsteen had already won the room long before anyone else walked on stage. She didn’t need another name on the bill to legitimise the evening. She’d already proved exactly why people had bought those tickets.
That’s perhaps what surprised me most. In an industry obsessed with image, Alana Springsteen’s looks quickly became the least interesting thing about her. That’s intended as the highest compliment I can pay. Yes, she’s striking. Of course she photographs beautifully. But after ten minutes none of that mattered.
What mattered then – and what still matters now – was the song writing. The musicianship. The voice. The connection.
Spend enough years squeezed into photo pits and you become a little cynical. You watch artists arrive wrapped in hype and leave wrapped in polite applause. Every so often, though, someone walks on stage and quietly dismantles every expectation you’ve carried through the door.
Alana Springsteen did exactly that.
I arrived expecting the packaging. I left talking about the artist. Stepping back out into the still-oppressive London night, one thought stayed with me longer than the usual ringing in the ears.
Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.
ALANA SPRINGSTEEN PLAYED ISLINGTON ASSEMBLY HALL, LONDON, 7th JULY 2026 -SUPPORTED BY NIAMH MCCRYSTAL
