A cosmic clash of darkness and light unfolded in Glasgow’s iconic Nice ’n’ Sleazy tonight, as Rob Marshall’s band Humanist took to the stage, delivering a set heavily laced with tracks from their latest album On the Edge of a Lost and Lonely World.
There’s an electricity in the air, a raw tension that feels fitting for this intimate venue—far removed from the grander stages they’ve shared with legends like Depeche Mode and Jane’s Addiction. But even in a place like this, Humanist knows how to transform the space, with a sound so epic it feels larger than life.
Marshall’s new LP shows how far his music has evolved, adding layers and depth to the soundscapes that first made waves on his 2020 debut. His work as a songwriter, composer, and producer has matured, and this album feels like a bold statement of his vision—dark, atmospheric, yet deeply human.
The stage is washed in the glow of a bright white neon sign, reading “HUMANIST,” suspended above drummer Scott Pemberton’s riser like a beacon. Right away, you get the sense that this band doesn’t shy away from big moments, even in a venue as compact and gritty as this. The first notes hit hard, Marshall’s distorted guitar tearing through the room, a sound that doesn’t just fill the space—it seems to reverberate deep into your bones. It’s a sensory experience, and with dry ice billowing across the room, the atmosphere is both eerie and entrancing.
Fans, already charged up, shout out ‘Depeche Mode!’ repeatedly, a clear nod to the shared DNA between Humanist’s music and the darker, more atmospheric sounds of the iconic band. It’s more than just a comparison though, with Dave Gahan, one of Marshall’s many high profile collaborators, the music stands firmly on its own, marked by a profound emotional intensity.
At the heart of it all is lead singer Jimmy Gnecco, whose dramatic, bass-heavy voice is the perfect complement to the band’s aesthetic. His vocals soar, raw and vulnerable, above the instrumental storm created by Marshall, bassist Wendy Ray Fowler, and Pemberton. It’s almost as if Gnecco is pouring his soul into every word, pondering the weight of human existence, love, and loss.
One of the most striking moments of the night came with Too Many Rivals, a song that took the crowd by the heart and squeezed. Gnecco’s voice, stripped of any pretense, let the raw emotion of the song shine through, and for a brief moment, the room was suspended in the gentleness of his vulnerability. You could feel the audience shift, drawn closer, as though everyone had taken a collective breath at the same time. It’s a tearjerker in the best possible way—an achingly beautiful reminder of how fragile we all are.
Then there’s The Immortal, a track that shifts the tone, layering thick, reverberating bass lines with airy, almost ghostly drums. It’s heavy but in a way that feels purposeful, not overwhelming. Marshall’s shoegaze-inspired guitar slides add texture, giving the track a sense of depth and space, creating something that feels like a paradox—both grounded and transcendent. The sadness in the music is palpable, but there’s also a kind of lingering hope in the way the sounds seem to build, like a slow-moving wave that never quite crashes.
What’s most striking about Humanist’s live performance is how carefully they’ve curated every element of their sound and presence. It’s not just about the music; it’s about the experience. The lighting, the energy, the way the songs bleed into one another—it’s all deliberate, designed to pull you deeper into the moment. And by the end of the set, that’s exactly where you are: lost in the music, but with your heart wide open.
Leaving the venue, there’s a kind of collective breath among the fans—a feeling that something profound just happened. Humanist’s music isn’t just meant to be heard; it’s meant to be felt. And tonight, at Nice ’n’ Sleazy, they proved just how powerful that feeling can be. Goosebumps, tears, and a sense of awe—it’s clear that Humanist’s performance wasn’t just a show; it was an experience.
Read our interview with Rob Marshall of Humanist ››
Words and picture: Rose McEnroe @rosemcenroephoto