Look, I won’t pretend I knew them first, followed them from the beginning, or any of the other pretentious shit music writers sometimes do. No. Lady Lazarus were a surprise.
And a pleasant one at that. I discovered them opening for HotWax at Mikropol on 16 February 2026, and their performance pretty much blew my fucking head off.
Sorry if I got a bit carried away in that last sentence, but it’s tough to describe it any other way. Well, maybe this:
Raw, pure performance.
Caroline Parks was delivering every lyric in a flow state closer to possession than anything else. Which makes sense, in a slightly dangerous way. Lady Lazarus took their name from Sylvia Plath’s poem about death, survival and coming back again, and there was something in Caroline’s performance that carried that same refusal to stay down. Mic cable noose, sweat and someone shouting “I’m so sick of this adult shit” like it was the only rational thing left to say.
It took me back to the time I saw Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes open for Foo Fighters at London Stadium in 2018. Frank literally walked over us.
Their set was as thunderous as the sick bass lines Isabel Rakuljic was delivering, and it went by quicker than any of us would have wanted.
Julia Nienhaus on drums and Gary Norman on guitar were the glue keeping the Lady Lazarus Jenga tower from falling.
And that’s the thing.
It looked like it could collapse at any second, but it never did.
Later on, they went on to organise and play LOUD WOMEN Fest Berlin at Neue Zukunft, started a social media campaign to get Jack Black’s attention, and released the video for PARTY!
Follow them on social media and go see them live before they absolutely blow the fuck up.
Whoops. Language again.
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