Noahfinnce Turns Camden’s Outsiders Into One Big, Beautifully Unhinged Family at the Electric Ballroom
Electric Ballroom – 27th October 2026
IMAGES / WORDS ALAN BRYCE
The first thing that hit you walking into the Electric Ballroom on 27 October wasn't the anticipation of seeing Noahfinnce. It was the feeling that this wasn't really a gig at all. It was a gathering of the beautifully overstimulated, the terminally online, the outsiders who'd somehow found each other in the flesh. Camden has always specialised in turning alienation into community, and for one night the Ballroom became a living, sweating extension of Noah's universe, packed wall to wall with people who knew every punchline, every self-deprecating aside and every lyric about spiralling thoughts, awkwardness, identity and survival.
Before the headliner took the stage, the crowd was treated to two support acts that could easily have been swallowed whole by the atmosphere if they weren't good enough. Fortunately, both came armed with the personality and conviction needed to leave their own mark on the evening. Chloe Star delivered a set that felt tailor-made for this audience, balancing sharp alternative pop instincts with enough punk attitude to stop things becoming overly polished. Having spoken with Chloe earlier this year while discussing her single Games, it was fascinating to see those ideas translated to a live environment.
During our interview she spoke passionately about authenticity, about refusing to be boxed in by genre expectations, and about wanting listeners to walk away feeling liberated from other people's judgements. She described music as something healing, sacred and connective, informed by her upbringing between Los Angeles and her family's Native reservation, and those themes weren't just talking points. They were embedded in every minute of her performance. What stood out most was the absence of calculation. Chloe performed with the reckless confidence of somebody who has stopped asking permission. The songs landed with genuine force, particularly when the guitars bit down harder and the melodies threatened to burst out of their own skin. There was a refreshingly human quality to her stage presence too. No manufactured cool, no rehearsed rock-star posturing. Just a performer throwing herself headlong into the moment and trusting the audience to come with her. Judging by the response around the room, they gladly did.
Following her, Senses kept the momentum rolling with a set built on huge hooks, emotional urgency and enough energy to convince even the stragglers at the bar that something worth paying attention to was happening. Their blend of pop-punk and modern alternative rock slotted perfectly into the evening's aesthetic, providing a bridge between Chloe's emotional directness and Noah's uniquely chaotic worldview. What made Senses particularly effective was their ability to take familiar genre ingredients and inject them with enough conviction to make them feel immediate rather than derivative. The choruses arrived like controlled detonations, engineered for audience participation but delivered with enough sincerity to avoid feeling formulaic. Around the Ballroom, heads nodded, fists punched the air and voices gradually became louder with each song. There was a sense that more and more people were being converted in real time. Their set carried the confidence of a band that understands exactly where it belongs within the current alternative landscape, yet they never slipped into complacency. Instead, they attacked the opportunity with the hunger of a group determined to win over every unfamiliar face in the room. That determination paid off. Rather than functioning as simple warm-up entertainment, Senses delivered one of those support slots that leaves people immediately searching for song titles and social media accounts before the headliner has even appeared. By the time they exited the stage, the atmosphere inside the Electric Ballroom had noticeably shifted. The audience were louder, looser and fully invested, creating the perfect runway for the beautiful mayhem that would follow when Noahfinnce finally emerged.
Then came Noah.
Watching Noahfinnce in 2026 is a strange experience because you're witnessing somebody who has transcended the traditional pathway of becoming a rock star. He didn't emerge from sticky rehearsal rooms and local pub circuits. He evolved through YouTube uploads, social media confessionals and the strange digital ecosystem of modern youth culture. Yet what makes him fascinating is how completely he understands rock music's oldest trick: making an audience feel seen.
Opening with "Mr Overwhelm" was a masterstroke. The song remains one of the clearest mission statements in his catalogue, turning anxiety into something loud enough to scream along to. It immediately established the night's central tension. Noah's songs deal with isolation, insecurity and mental health struggles, yet they land like celebrations. Every lyric that ought to feel lonely somehow became communal.
"I Know Better" and "Kickin Trash" followed, both delivered with an urgency that suggested Noah was determined not to leave a single ounce of energy backstage. The crowd responded accordingly, with bodies bouncing from the front barrier to the rear exits. If the first few songs felt like ignition, "Pet with the Tism" was the first genuine explosion. Equal parts absurd, self-aware and oddly touching, it embodies Noah's ability to take subjects most artists would treat with painful seriousness and transform them into moments of collective catharsis.
That balancing act continued throughout the set. "3 Day Headache", "After Therapy" and "Too Sensitive" could easily descend into navel-gazing in less capable hands. Instead, they became rallying cries. Lester Bangs always understood that the best rock and roll wasn't about perfection; it was about exposing the cracks in the human condition and amplifying them through volume. Noah seems instinctively aware of the same truth. His songs don't present solutions. They document the mess.
"Lalala" arrived like a sugar rush before "Scumbag" dragged things back into deliciously grim territory. "Headcase" earned one of the loudest audience responses of the night, its title alone functioning as a point of identification for much of the room. By this stage the Electric Ballroom felt less like a venue and more like a support group whose members had collectively decided therapy would be more fun with distorted guitars.
The emotional centre of the evening arrived with "Alexithymia" and "Subtitles". Both tracks showcased Noah's strongest quality as a writer: an ability to articulate feelings that many people struggle to describe. The audience didn't merely sing these songs back. They inhabited them. There was a palpable sense that these lyrics had travelled alongside many of the people present through difficult moments of their lives.
"Gibberish" and "Growing Up On The Internet" provided some of the night's most telling moments. The latter in particular felt almost sociological. Noah belongs to the first generation of artists whose adolescence exists permanently online, archived and searchable forever. The song captures that uniquely modern horror while simultaneously laughing at it. Watching hundreds of young fans scream every word back was both funny and strangely moving. This wasn't nostalgia. It was documentation.
By the time "Wonky" and "Asthma Attack" arrived, the room had achieved that rare state where performer and audience become indistinguishable. Songs were no longer being played at the crowd. They were being generated by it. The barriers between stage and floor seemed entirely symbolic.
"Life's A Bit" brought a brief moment of reflection before "Worms (In My Brain)" closed the night in gloriously unhinged fashion. It was the perfect ending. The title sounds like a joke, but like so much of Noah's work, behind the humour lurks something painfully recognisable. The song summed up the entire evening: anxiety transformed into entertainment, vulnerability transformed into strength, chaos transformed into connection.
What made the show memorable wasn't virtuosity or spectacle. Plenty of artists can sing better, play faster or spend more money on production. Noahfinnce's real achievement lies elsewhere. He understands that modern alienation is often absurd. He knows that the internet has made us simultaneously more connected and more isolated. Most importantly, he has figured out how to turn those contradictions into songs that people genuinely need.
Walking back out into Camden after the lights came up, ears ringing and shirt sticking to skin, it was difficult not to think that Noah has accidentally become exactly what many generations of alternative music have searched for: an authentic voice for people who don't quite fit anywhere else. On a chilly October night in London, the Electric Ballroom was filled with hundreds of those people. For ninety minutes, thanks to Noahfinnce, they fitted perfectly.
SET LIST
Mr Overwhelm
I know Better
Kickin Trash
Pet with the Tism
3 Day Headache
After Therapy
Too Sensitive
Lalala
Scumbag
Headcase
Alexithymia
Subtitles
Gibberish
Growing Up On The Internet
Wonky
Asthma Attack
Life’s A Bit
Worms (In My Brain)
CONNECT NOAHFINNCE
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