Kickin Valentina – Bannermans – Edinburgh – 15th May 2025

I showed up way too early. Still daylight. Terrible start. My boots were already chewing into my heels, and I hadn’t even made it through the door yet. Hanging outside Bannerman’s like a ghost with nowhere better to be, scrolling my phone just so I didn’t have to look at anyone. Everyone around me was loud, relaxed, and flammable. I hate that kind of ease. Thought about leaving—more than once. Didn’t.

Eventually, I went in and to the same corner as always—the darkest bit near the wall. Got a drink. Strong enough to feel, but not enough to blur. The place started filling fast. Everyone looked like they knew what they were doing. I never do.

Then Kickin Valentina hit the stage, and the whole room just shifted.

Joe Edwards didn’t so much sing as bark, bite, and drag the mic into a headlock. His voice sounded like it came from somewhere between bourbon and gravel. During “War Machine,” he kept pointing out into the crowd like he was picking names off a list.

Heber Pampillon shredded so hard it felt like he was cutting wires in your head. The solo in “Crazy” was disgusting in the best way—ugly, beautiful, too much. I couldn’t move for a bit after. I just stared at my boots, letting the noise settle.

Chris and Jimmy—rhythm guys—were tight and mean. Not flashy, just right. The bass hit me square in the gut, like getting sucker-punched in slow motion. Drums like the back of a headache.

At some point, I wasn’t pressed against the wall anymore. I didn’t notice until “End of the Road” and I was half-nodding along like some kind of functioning adult. Not dancing. Just… giving in. The room was soaked by then. Everyone dripping. Heat thick enough to chew.

They dropped “Devil’s Dime” and everything just melted. Bodies everywhere. Arms up. Screaming. I joined in. Off-key. Too loud. Didn’t care. Felt correct.

They ended hard. One last song—no speech, no fuss. Just finished and walked off like they’d torched the place and didn’t need to watch it burn.

I left half-deaf, sore in the legs, ears still ringing. Might never stop.

Would I go again? Already planning it.

Would I recommend it? Only if you’re okay with feeling like you’ve been mugged by joy and noise at the same time.

I need water. And a dark room. And maybe therapy.