Lonnie Gunn EP Launch Show

Lonnie Gunn unveils a deeply personal debut EP in an emotionally loaded, enthralling performance – Rossi Bar, Brighton, Friday 7 August 2026.

Lonnie Gunn *****

Lonnie Gunn’s “2013 Horsemeat Scandal” EP release show at the Rossi Bar felt like a moment where a fiercely personal, slow‑forged body of work finally stepped into public light. The New Jersey–born, Brighton‑based artist has written and shaped this EP over two years. With the grunge‑flecked alt‑pop, (her “lesbian fembot bubble grunge”) developed further with more tender highlights, it carries a tension that is both intimate yet volatile. Lonnie admitted it was the “scariest show” she has ever played, and that honesty didn’t dramatise the night so much as frame it.

The hot sweaty Rossi Bar basement was packed and primed. When early technical issues derailed the opening, Lonnie’s dry humour (“That’s not how it’s supposed to sound”) cut through, and the front row’s impromptu sing along transformed a glitch into a communal moment. It was telling: her audience didn’t just watch; they participated.

The EP run‑through unfolded with “I Miss Everything” setting the tone with grungy‑pop

warmth and a playful false ending, softening the edges of Lonnie Gunn’s tension. “Photocopy” tightened the frame, driven by Esme Wright’s strong drumming and Lauren Maddison’s melodic bass lines, while Lonnie’s gestural presence began to stretch across the stage. “Pink Butterfly Wing” burst forward with Alice Oliphant’s rock guitar flashes; “Babytooth” retreated into shadow, its atmosphere thick with Lonnie’s soaring vocals above. “Taxidermy Swan” hovered in melancholy, and “Good Girls Go to Heaven” introduced Lonnie Gunn’s surreal, darkly comic imagery. It was the kind of detail that turns personal narrative into something stranger and more cinematic.

Then came “Glow”, the emotional axis of the night. Opening as Lonnie’s solitary acoustic confession, it exposed the raw nerve of the EP. It was a moment so quiet the room seemed to contract around her. Later with the full band to reimagine the song as a rock‑driven release, the contrast and quality of their expanding sound was again underlined. Her declaration, “That’s my whole EP!”, landed with the weight of someone stepping out from behind their own work and into its aftermath.

The older material followed with familiar melodic grunge‑pop. “Lucky Girl” toyed with momentum; “Kiss You” simmered; “Dog in a Hot Car” showcased mastery of soft‑to‑heavy transitions; and “EX GF”, with its electronic intro and dual‑mic reverb, closed a performance that connected completely with the audience.

Across the set, Lonnie Gunn revealed an expanding emotional and sonic scale. This wasn’t just an EP launch; it was a moment of self‑definition made visible.

Girl Apocrypha *****

Opening the night was Girl Apocrypha, the new project of Brighton’s Emia Demir, whose genre‑blurring alt‑rock/dark‑pop arrives with a theatrical unpredictability. Onstage as a four‑piece, they opened with a playful declaration to “have fun whether you like it or not”. It set the tone for a set built on contrast and mischievous intent.

“Make Your Own Design” established Emia’s sharp, expressive vocal presence, while “Dealer” shifted into a mellower build‑and‑drop structure, punctuated by snarling delivery. The poetry reading interlude of “Dinosaur” added humour and personality before the band spectacularly snapped into the full‑power riff of “Adam Wouldo”. “Astronaut” offered a quieter, gradual ascent, Willow Simpson’s rock‑leaning guitar stretching the atmosphere. “Madonna” leaned into dark pop‑disco theatrics with tongue‑in‑cheek flair. By the time “Me + U” closed their set, Girl Apocrypha had carved out a vivid, unpredictable world defined by contrast, wit, and restless invention.

By the end of the night, it was clear that both Lonnie Gunn and Girl Apocrypha stand among Brighton’s most exciting emerging voices: artists who command the stage with a kind of theatrical, restless captivation that feels impossible to ignore.

Peter Greenfield, August 2026.