WAILING BASNHEE ‘FIGHT TO BE FREE’ - Live from Santiago’s (28th November, 2024)
Introduction
I’m writing this blog as a homage my first ever live music shoot at Santiago’s Bar in Leeds on the 28th of November, 2024 —and it couldn’t have been a better introduction. The band: Wailing Banshee.
From the moment they stepped on stage, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a quiet set. Their sound pulls heavily from that classic 80s British metal era—think early Iron Maiden, Dio, Judas Priest—but it never feels like imitation. It’s loud, fast, and unapologetic.
Discovery
Wailing Banshee were one of the first bands I came across while searching for up-and-coming acts in my area. They’re currently headlining their Fight To Be Free tour, following the release of their latest EP—packed with heavy riffs, driving drums, and vocals that cut straight through the mix.
Walking into this as my first shoot, I didn’t fully know what to expect—but that changed pretty quickly.
Arrival and First Impressions
Arriving at Santiago’s on a cold, dark November night felt fitting. The venue—tucked away upstairs—matched the mood: small, dimly lit, and already beginning to fill by the time I got there.
While Wailing Banshee were clearly the main draw, the full lineup brought serious weight—Dacara, Metoria Cliffs, and Loose Cables each carving out their own space in the night. Despite the size of the room, every band owned the stage and made sure they were heard. By the time Banshee were due on, the energy in the room had built into something much bigger than the venue itself.
First Challenge: Stepping Into the Scene
Walking into this as my first proper concert shoot, the biggest hurdle wasn’t my camera—it was myself.
I’d already spoken to the band through Instagram beforehand, but actually approaching people in person felt like a different challenge entirely. I overthought it more than I needed to.
That changed pretty quickly. Speaking to Harry (guitar) and Sean (drums), I was immediately put at ease. They were welcoming, appreciative, and genuinely grateful that I was there to capture their night. Even when I explained this wasn’t exactly my usual kind of work, it didn’t matter—they were just glad to have me involved.
That kind of response makes a huge difference, especially when you’re new. Networking can feel like a barrier at first, but moments like that are what build the foundation.
Later in the night, speaking with Al (guitar) and Dani (vocals) only reinforced that impression. Even after the set, they took the time to chat—and unexpectedly handed me a free T-shirt as a thank you. It’s a small thing, but it says a lot about the kind of band they are: grounded, appreciative, and easy to work with.
I didn’t get the chance to properly meet Richie on bass, but if he’s anything like the rest of the band, I’m sure that’ll change next time.
Second Challenge: Shooting the Chaos
The second challenge hit the moment the music started: lighting.
Coming from weddings and daytime shoots, I wasn’t working with the fastest lens—and in a venue like this, that matters. The lighting was minimal, constantly shifting, and far from forgiving. A lot of shots I thought I’d nailed ended up buried in noise when I checked them later.
It made post-production a battle, but tools like Adobe Lightroom helped recover more than I expected. Some images I’d written off completely turned out usable with a bit of work.
Flash wasn’t an option—not in a space this tight. I wanted to stay respectful to both the band and the crowd, especially without a dedicated photo pit. Most of the time I was shooting from ground level, squeezed between the front row and whatever furniture I could work around, trying to find angles without getting in the way.
And then there was the pace.
At first, it felt like trying to capture a wedding aisle moment—fast, unpredictable, easy to miss. The difference is, a gig like this doesn’t slow down. It’s constant.
And with Wailing Banshee, it’s relentless. Every song hits with the same full-force energy—no breaks, no breathing room. As a photographer, you either adapt quickly, or you fall behind.
Channelling the spirit of the 80’s
So what did Wailing Banshee actually look and feel like live?
The easiest way to explain it is this: imagine finding a DeLorean, a TARDIS, or even a phone booth straight out of Bill & Ted, and dropping yourself straight into the early 80s—back when venues were hosting the likes of Iron Maiden and Judas Priest at their rawest.
Now take that atmosphere—that sound, that presence—and hand it to a five-piece band from Manchester. That’s Wailing Banshee.
On stage, it’s relentless. Dani’s vocals cut straight through the room—soaring, powerful, and completely in control. Al and Harry trade riffs that feel as heavy as they are sharp, while Sean drives everything forward behind the kit with near-manic intensity. Holding it all together, Richie’s bass adds that depth you don’t just hear—you feel it.
But what really sets them apart is how they pull the crowd into it. This didn’t feel like a band playing at an audience—it felt like something shared.
One moment that stuck with me was Al Mackenzie diving straight into the crowd mid-set, still playing, disappearing into the chaos of the pit without breaking stride. It only pushed the energy higher—turning an already packed, overheated room into something close to uncontrollable.
Even in the dark, with limited lighting and barely any space to move, you could feel the shift when they hit full momentum. The whole room lifted.
If Nigel Tufnel were there, he’d probably say they don’t just play loud—they take it straight to 11.
From Pit to Post
I found it hard to settle down after the show. The energy Wailing Banshee brought with them didn’t just stay in the venue—it followed me home.
I remember feeling a mix of pride and anxiety. Pride, because I’d managed to secure a photo pass and shoot my first gig completely on my own. And not just any gig—one with a band that set the bar incredibly high. But alongside that came pressure. They’d seen my previous work, and I wanted to deliver something that lived up to the night.
Loading the images into Adobe Lightroom was a reality check. Composition wasn’t the issue—the band were incredibly photogenic, constantly giving me strong moments to work with. It was the lighting that made things difficult.
The venue setup was unforgiving: a dark room, with harsh red and blue lighting dominating the stage. Paired with a slower f/4 lens, it pushed my camera to its limits. Noise crept into almost every shot.
At first, it was frustrating—but it quickly became a challenge. One I knew would push me forward if I could figure it out.
Using what I know about colour and lighting, and leaning on denoise tools, I managed to recover more than I expected. Some images I’d written off as unusable turned into sharp, portfolio-worthy shots. Not all of them—but enough.
Out of over 900 images from the set, I narrowed it down to around 120, and then further to about 20 final selects (or 40 including black and white variations).
It wasn’t perfect—but it was progress.
Gigs vs Weddings — A Shift in Pace
Shooting live music isn’t as different from weddings as I expected—but where it differs, it really differs.
Both are high-pressure environments. In both, you want to deliver your best work because it matters—to you and to the people you’re shooting for. And both can move fast.
But gigs—especially with a band like Wailing Banshee—don’t slow down.
This isn’t a band that holds still. Every moment is movement, energy, unpredictability. You don’t just react—you have to anticipate. Think ahead. Position yourself before the moment happens, not after.
Doing that in a cramped, low-light venue added another layer of difficulty. But that’s where adaptability comes in. Confidence in what you know, willingness to try things, and accepting that not every shot will work.
That night pushed me in all the right ways. It improved my confidence—not just in shooting fast-paced environments, but in approaching people, working under pressure, and trusting my editing process when things didn’t go to plan.
Final Thoughts
Wailing Banshee are exactly what you want from a band like this.
Off stage—approachable, respectful, and genuinely appreciative.
On stage—something else entirely. Loud, intense, and completely relentless.
I can’t thank them enough for giving me the opportunity. That night didn’t just give me a set of photos—it gave me direction.
It’s what pushed me toward pursuing live music photography more seriously.
And as a lifelong hard rock and metal fan, one thing became very clear watching them: bands like this are proof that it’s not going anywhere.
Metal doesn’t fade—it evolves, and it keeps getting louder.