Arm’s Length hit Newcastle head-on
The Canadian band brought their second album ‘There’s A Whole World Out There’ to The Grove.
Photo: Lauren Peters
Returning to The Grove off the back of their second album, Arm’s Length found Newcastle loud, loyal and completely up for it. With pits opening early and voices already wrecked, the night never really let up.
Arm’s Length arrived in Newcastle last week with proper momentum behind them. Their latest album, There’s A Whole World Out There, has clearly shifted things for the band and, having just wrapped up a run with Hot Mulligan, they returned to The Grove looking completely at ease.
The support bill built the night gradually. Ben Quad were twitchy and urgent from the jump, all scrappy Midwest-leaning emo that sounded like it might fall apart but never actually would. Shoreline leaned more melodic but kept the weight behind them, landing big hooks without sanding off the edges. You could feel the room waking up — shoulders loosening, voices getting braver.
Then Koyo tipped the atmosphere completely.
That Long Island hardcore streak came through immediately with thicker riffs, sharper edges, and something heavier running underneath it all. The first real pits opened almost on cue. Not the polite kind where everyone half-apologises, actual momentum. Bodies colliding, the floor bouncing, people committing to it like they’d been waiting for permission.
A lot of the room knew the words too, screaming them back without holding anything in. It felt like everyone had been carrying something around all evening and suddenly had somewhere to put it. When they finished, the place felt switched on.
By the time Arm’s Length came out, it was packed in tight — fishermen beanies, Carhartt, battered Vans and all. The earlier chaos hadn’t disappeared; it had just sharpened. Garamond pulled everyone in immediately. You could see people bracing for certain lines before the words landed. When Palinopsia hit, the whole room gave itself to it; messy, slightly out of time, and completely meant.
The crowd surfing never really let up. With no barrier, the stage felt level with the front row, and as soon as a chorus crested, someone was climbing up. Then another. Then two at once. At one point, it felt like a steady stream of people drifting overhead. The band didn’t try to shut it down (if anything, they leaned into it), just the occasional warning to watch the kit as another body passed by, grinning as they did.
At one point, the power dipped. Not mid-song drama, just suddenly gone for a few seconds. The room didn’t hesitate. If anything, it got louder with a stray “toon toon, black and white army” cutting through before dissolving into laughter. It was chaotic and over almost as soon as it started. When the sound kicked back in, they didn’t pause for applause. They just carried on.
Mid-set, Allen paused to tune his guitar, and a Geordie voice rang out, pure sarcasm: “Take your time, lads! We’ll wait!” A few chants followed for good measure. He clocked it, grinned, told them to “fuck off,” and the entire place cracked up. It felt warm rather than heckly, the kind of exchange that only works when a crowd genuinely likes you.
Object Permanence hit and the front surged again. Hands on the stage, voices already wrecked but still going. The newer songs sounded tight and settled, but it was the older ones that people carried differently. Eyes shut and still shouting even though their voices had already gone.
By the end, it was just heat, ringing ears and legs that felt heavier than they had any right to. People were already replaying it before they’d even made it out the door. Arm’s Length didn’t need spectacle. No big lighting moments, no forced theatrics. They just played like they meant it. Looked genuinely thrilled to be back. And Newcastle met them at full volume.
All photos by Lauren Peters.
