It was a warm spring evening in London when we entered the sold-out Village Underground in Shoreditch together with a surprisingly mixed crowd. Having pre-assumed the audience would mirror those of Ethel Cain or Lana Del Rey – Gen Z girls and Tumblr romantics – we were instead met with an older demographic. Most looked like they had come straight from their corporate 9-to-5, slowing down their evening with a drink in hand, ready to be serenaded by the soft, melancholic tunes of the act of the night: the American-British duo Sunday (1994), made up of guitarist Lee Newell and singer Paige Turner. Only at the very front of the pit could we spot a few hardcore fans, dressed in white cottage-core dresses with bows in their hair – inspired by Turner’s signature look – and large hand-painted signs held up by tired, trembling arms. We just knew they’d been queuing all day to secure their spots and be that close.
The show’s setlist blended the old with the new, spanning tracks from their self-titled debut album and their most recent EP ‘Devotion’, which was released earlier this month. They opened and closed with fan favourites ‘Blonde’ and ‘Tired Boy’ – the latter being the song that first introduced them to the world, and which Turner humbly credited as “the reason we’re all here tonight”. Watching Turner’s live interactions with fans felt both heartwarming and sincere – she leaned down several times to sing lyrics directly to or with people in the crowd, sharing a moment and holding hands. “Wow, she looks like a Barbie!”, one person next to us whispered to their friend when she first set foot on stage – and they weren’t wrong. Turner’s stage presence was divinely feminine and mesmerising. Midway through the set, Newell took the mic to introduce the full band, including their session musicians, and where they were from. He stood out not just as the only Brit on stage but as one of the most eccentric British men we’ve ever encountered – animated, humorous, and slightly chaotic in the most charming way. The duo’s chemistry on stage was undeniable – Turner, with her ethereal voice contrasted perfectly with Newell’s almost unpredictable guitar work. At times, it felt like watching two different worlds trying to meet halfway, but somehow they always did, right at the perfect moment in the perfect spot.
Notably, their live production was much heavier and rockier than their studio recordings. The added grittiness brought a new depth to their songs, enhancing the band’s distinctive black-and-white/90s/church/grunge aesthetic. It felt like a full immersion – not just into the music, but into the world Sunday (1994) have built over the past couple of years.
By the time they closed with ‘Tired Boy’, the crowd had fully surrendered to the experience. People were swaying to the soft sounds together, some with arms around each other, some just captivatingly staring at the stage. As the final chord rang out, Turner whispered a soft “Thank you”, and the room erupted.
Sunday (1994) didn’t simply perform – they invited us into their own beautiful little world, and for one night, it felt exactly where we were meant to be. And we surely don’t want to leave anytime soon.
Written by Vicky Madzak // photography by Jamie MacMillan
GEM Magazine 