When I heard that Alanis Morissette was performing at Powderham Castle this summer, I was excited – very excited. And I’ll admit it, a small, delusional part of me was quietly hoping she’d walk out and play her debut album front‑to‑back. I know it absolutely wasn’t going to happen, but the fantasy is half the fun.
Her Glastonbury 2025 set, a late‑afternoon slot that felt suspiciously like a headline moment, was one of those rare festival alignments where everything clicked. Her voice was towering, the band razor‑sharp, and the Pyramid Stage crowd heaved with the kind of communal release usually reserved for the final act of the night. Many walked away saying she should have closed it. It was a reminder that Alanis remains a generational force, still performing with the urgency, wit and emotional voltage that made her a phenomenon in the first place.
That energy funnelled straight into TK Maxx presents Live at Powderham, where she topped a bill stacked with powerful female‑fronted artists. Powderham’s sweeping grounds offered something more intimate than Glastonbury’s vast sprawl, but no less electrifying. With ten studio albums to draw from, the promise was simple: classics, deep cuts, and the raw, unfiltered connection she’s honed over three decades onstage.
And who knows… maybe a surprise or two. Just probably not the full‑album fantasy I was clinging to.
As we entered the site, the distant tones of The Big Moon drifted across the field. Formed in London in 2014, the band quickly carved out a space in the UK indie scene with their Mercury‑nominated debut Love in the 4th Dimension, followed by the more expansive, synth‑leaning Walking Like We Do and the emotionally rich Here Is Everything.
It was 5pm, that sweet spot where half the crowd has only just arrived and the other half already resembling the shade of the red Mr Whippy ice cream van we passed on the way in. With three albums (four if you count the deluxe edition of the latest release) to choose from, their set spanned their career with enough familiar favourites to keep the masses happy.
“Your Light,” lifted from their 2020 record, drew the biggest reaction, a shimmering, communal moment that set the tone for the evening.
After a short break and a pint, Pale Waves took to the stage. Formed in Manchester in 2014, the band first emerged with a moody, goth‑pop aesthetic that sat somewhere between The Cure and early 2000s emo. Their debut My Mind Makes Noises cemented them as one of the UK’s most intriguing new acts, before later albums leaned further into pop‑rock sheen.
The last time I saw them was at Plymouth Pavilions as part of a four‑band showcase with a very young Yungblud, The Amazons and The Vaccines. Back then they were darker, more underground, more post‑punk. Tonight, though, the set leaned confidently into pop — polished, melodic, and clearly the product of a band who’ve grown into themselves.
A superb cover of The Cranberries’ “Zombie”, one of their key influences, landed beautifully. And the full‑circle moment wasn’t lost on anyone: Pale Waves once cited Alanis as a major influence, and here they were, opening for the very artist who shaped them.
The final support slot belonged to Skunk Anansie, a band who need no introduction to anyone with even a passing interest in 90s alt‑rock. Formed in 1994, they tore through the decade with politically charged, genre‑defying records before splitting in 2001. SKIN pursued a solo career, the others scattered into various projects, and then in 2009 they reunited, older, wiser, but still utterly ferocious.
In 2026, they’re still knocking it out of the park.
SKIN strode onstage in an oversized leather gilet, baggy trousers and yellow trainers, the kind of ‘final boss’ look that screamed “I could end you”, yet somehow carried the unmistakable aura of someone who’d probably pull you into a massive, bone‑crunching hug instead. That’s her magic: all ferocity at first glance, all heart once you’re in her orbit. And here’s the wild part, she’s less than two years away from her free bus pass, yet she moves with the restless, electric energy of someone half her age, bouncing, prowling and commanding the stage like it’s her natural habitat. “Fucking hell, it’s hot,” she laughed between songs, and she wasn’t wrong. The sun was dipping, but the heat onstage must have been brutal.
Mid‑set, she delivered one of the most memorable moments of the entire evening. With zero warning, SKIN vaulted over the front barrier and went for a wander through the crowd, armed with her now‑legendary SKIN CAM, a roving, close‑up lens into the chaos. Fans parted, swarmed, cheered and filmed as she moved through them, a rock icon strolling through her kingdom.
Then the track kicked up a notch.
Suddenly she found herself caught in a small but enthusiastic mosh pit, pinned against the barrier as the crowd surged. She looked absolutely delighted, maybe a bit too delighted, grinning as she was jostled around like a fan who’d snuck into her own gig. Eventually, security hauled her out of the pit and deposited her back onstage, where she carried on as if nothing had happened.
Their set was a career‑spanning riot, complete with a new track that went down exceptionally well. By the time they left, the arena was packed, buzzing, and more than ready for the main event.
Alanis Morissette needs no introduction. Watching her Glastonbury 2025 performance sent my head into orbit. Here is an artist who, in the 90s, sang openly about subjects many were too scared to touch, sexism, power imbalances, emotional trauma, the messy realities of being a woman in a male‑dominated industry. And the thing is: every word still rings true.
Progress has been made, more voices are heard, more behaviour is called out, more space has been carved for LGBTQ+ people and women in music, but the emotional core of those songs remains painfully relevant.
I wished for Jagged Little Pill in full, and honestly, I didn’t come away disappointed.
The setlist was varied, generous, and beautifully paced. Midway through, she gathered her band around a piano for a stripped‑back, acoustic‑led trio of songs, bare, intimate, and still devastatingly powerful three decades on. Her voice was pitch perfect and she showcased her range and staying power on many occasions, each time, the audience bursting into sheers and applause as she managed to hold a note longer than anyone had expected!
The opening run was pure nostalgia: “Hand in My Pocket”, harmonica blazing, crowd roaring, “Head Over Feet” and “You Learn”, Faces lit up everywhere. Nobody was leaving short‑changed.
The acoustic segment featured “Rest”, “Mary Jane”, and a reprise of “Rest”, a gorgeous, vulnerable moment that showcased just how timeless her songwriting is.
Then came the big hitters - “Ironic” — mass sing‑along, obviously, “All I Really Want” — Alanis holding the mic out as the crowd took over & “You Oughta Know”, still venomous, still cathartic, still iconic
The encore delivered “Uninvited” and closed with “Thank U”, the perfect ending to a near‑anthemic night. She thanked the audience for continuing to show up for her and her band. And honestly? We couldn’t have been more appreciative. It’s not every day a world‑class superstar turns up on your doorstep with the River Exe shimmering behind her.
It was magical. The support acts were perfectly curated, each bringing something distinct while warming the arena for the main event. Alanis delivered a set that was nostalgic without being stuck in the past, emotionally charged without being overwrought, and powerful in all the ways that matter.
I may never see her again, who knows, but I’m so glad I got the chance to see her here, in Devon, without travelling hours to do so.
Bravo.
Words - Steve Muscutt
Pictures - © Cuffe & Taylor & musomuso
