Ten albums in, and somehow, this was my first time seeing Ezra Furman live. Ridiculous, I know. But what better way to make amends than at an intimate, sold-out in-store show at Rough Trade Bristol, celebrating the release of Goodbye Small Head.
From the moment I arrived, the anticipation was evident. Fans had already staked their claim at the front, eager to soak in every note. With Goodbye Small Head barely a week old, this was a rare chance to experience its raw energy in real time.
Ezra greeted us with a knowing grin: “Good morning, we have some things to show you!” Understatement of the year. The band was locked in from the first note, their sound tight and finely tuned. Ezra, ever the shapeshifter, bathed in the soundwaves, kicking things off with a couple of classics—Forever in Sunset and Driving Down to L.A.—both rousing singalongs that set the tone for the event.
Her voice is a force of nature—one moment tender, the next erupting into punk-rock fury, teeth clenched, passion spilling over. Veil Song shimmered with gorgeous keys and a waltzing bass line, Ezra’s vocal delivery evoking shades of Neil Young. Then came the new material, so polished it felt like old favourites already. Jump Out built steadily before exploding into a crescendo of pure emotion. Ezra repeated, “Stay in the moment,” like a mantra—fully aware of the fleeting magic of live music. “I’m in the moment, I hope you are with me too.” No doubt about it—the crowd was spellbound.
As the set gained momentum, Power of the Moon lifted the energy before Love You So Bad—introduced by Ezra as “the best song I’ve ever written!”—smashed it out of the park. It’s the kind of track that grabs you instantly and never lets go. Then came Suck the Blood from My Wound, delivered with a fury of rage and raw emotional intensity, Ezra pouring everything into it.
Hearing Goodbye Small Head live brought its themes into sharp focus. The album, described as a journey through losing control—whether through illness, mysticism, heartbreak, or simply existing in a fractured world—felt even more visceral in this setting. Tracks like Jump Out and Veil Song showcased Furman’s ability to weave vulnerability and defiance into something magical.
The night closed with a final wave of catharsis, leaving the audience breathless. In such an intimate venue, the raw emotion of Ezra’s songs hit even harder. This wasn’t just a gig—it was a reckoning, a celebration, and a reminder of why live music matters.
Ezra Furman is a performer who doesn’t just play songs—she lives them. And after finally witnessing it firsthand, I won’t be waiting until album eleven to do it again.
Words and Pictures by Matt Barnes
