JIM JONES ALL STARS // SEAFOAM GREEN (SUPPORT) // LEEDS BRUDENELL SOCIAL CLUB
Jim Jones brings a ‘Rock ’n’ Roll Revival’ at the Brudenell
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4/5
Jim Jones All Stars at Leeds Brudenell Social Club
Photo Credit: John Hayhurst
If rock ’n’ roll still has a heartbeat, it was pounding hard inside the Brudenell Social Club. On a warm October night, the Leeds crowd was already restless before the first note hit — that kind of low, electric hum that says everyone knows something big is coming.
The opening act, Ireland’s Seafoam Green, provided the calm before the storm. This was an unexpected bonus for me as I didn’t know they were supporting on this tour till I walked through the door. They don’t often visit Yorkshire, tending to stay on the other side of the Pennines, so this was my first chance to see them live albeit just as a two piece.
Dave O’Grady and Muireann McDermott Long appeared with just a couple of guitars, a few pedals, and a sense of quiet command. Their stripped-back soul and blues felt intimate yet expansive, filling the room with space as much as sound. Newly released song “Saw You For A Demon” was the high point — haunting and spare, McDermott Long’s voice wavering between tenderness and defiance while O’Grady’s guitar shimmered beneath. As the last line of their final song died away, the hush before applause felt like reverence. I’ll be back for much more next time they venture east.
Then the storm broke. The Jim Jones All Stars didn’t take the stage so much as erupt onto it. From the first blast of horns, and the announcement, it was clear this was going to be a full-blown ritual.
Jim Jones has long been one of rock’s charismatic zealots, and this iteration — the All Stars — brings both swagger and muscle. Jones remains a force of nature, equal parts preacher, hustler, and rock ’n’ roll evangelist. Around him, the seven-piece lineup played like a single organism. Carlton Mounsher’s guitar snarled, the “Blondie-like” singer Ali Jones sparkled, Gavin Jay’s bass hit deep, and Aidan Sinclair’s drumming drove everything forward with muscular swing. Elliott Mortimer’s keys lent flashes of gospel lift and Little Richard flourishes, while the horn duo of Stuart Dace and Tom Hodges were pure dynamite — syncopated, sharp, and completely irresistible.
Jones stalked the stage, eyes blazing, voice rasping with grit and conviction. Every gesture pulled the crowd closer, every scream felt like a commandment. The band moved between heavy grooves and sudden drops of tension, the sound thick with sweat and brass. “Cement Mixer” landed like a punch to the chest, its grinding rhythm turning the room into one pulsing mass. “Gimme The Grease” unleashed the horns in full fury, Dace and Hodges duelling with gleeful abandon as the frontman egged them on.
Despite the chaos, the control was exquisite. Each player knew exactly where to sit in the mix — no grandstanding, no wasted space. The Brudenell’s sound engineer deserves credit: the balance between grit and clarity was spot-on. When the horns soared, they didn’t swamp the rhythm section; when the guitars howled, they still left air for the groove to breathe.
The crowd gave as good as they got. During “Troglodyte,” Jones whipped the room into a frenzy, call-and-response shouts echoing like a gospel revival gone rogue. It was wild but never sloppy — that perfect edge between danger and discipline that defines the band’s live shows.
Visually, they looked the part: suited up like renegades from a lost ‘60s film, slick but dangerous, every movement in sync. There’s something timeless about the way the All Stars carry themselves — as if they’ve stepped straight out of a smoke-stained juke joint and into a 21st century Tarantino movie without missing a beat.
By the time the last chord rang out, the air was thick with heat and the smell of beer. Jones stood centre stage, arms raised, while the horns lifted their instruments like trophies. It felt like the aftermath of a victory.
Seafoam Green had offered intimacy and restraint; the All Stars answered with sweat and swagger. Together they delivered one of those rare nights where live music feels dangerous again — visceral, loud, and gloriously alive. Tonight was the opening night of the ‘25 tour, catch later dates while you still can.
