Review: Saturday at Winter's End 2026 with Orianthi, The Damn Truth, Preyrs and more

Those blessed with pin sharp recollection might recall seeing Saffron Gorman and the Black Eagle Band at 2024’s Rockstock, also here at Trecco Bay. Notable today is how much more at ease the Irish chanteuse is on the big stage. The band are a measure of two halves – you get the likes of ‘Stalker’ and ‘Parasomnia’, ambitious and multi-part, plus the simpler, sing-song thrusts of ‘Come On Over’ and the memorably titled ‘Paint Me Like The Bitch I Am’.

Ransom? They’re the band the words ‘infectious’, ‘effort’ and ‘fun’ were created for. That being said, no one seems to be enjoying it more than a handheld red Muppet toy on the front row, mercilessly banging its gaping-mouthed head to such decidedly jocular tunes as ‘Even Nuns Watch Porn’. As daft as it all is, Ransom remind those of us already sufficiently drunk to not take life too seriously.

A perspiring Jack J Hutchinson quickly regrets wearing his tight-fitting leather jacket. “I can’t take it off, cos I’ve got (Planet Rock’s indefatigable merch overlord) Johnny Deller’s face tattooed on my chest,” he jokes. Well, we assume he’s joking. Jack’s actually the front wedge in a superb power trio, an ebullient yet instinctive guitarist whose music’s built on, but not beholden to, the blues. You sense that songs like ‘Bullets’ and ‘Deal With The Devil’ come from his soul – this, on stages large or small, is the thing destiny intended for him.

Black Lakes are a beast of sharper fang, combining with some success the worlds of pummelling heft and dark-hued melody. Jammed with content, their 30-minute slot places the South Wales outfit neatly between HIM’s lunar cool and Stabbing Westward’s digital mayhem – they just need an extra hook or three to be the full goth ticket. Almost studious in comparison, elaborate metallists Seven Sisters politely inform us that this is their first gig in Wales before criss-crossing our auditory systems with the most elaborate musicianship we’ll hear all weekend – two songs of Tolkien-esque duration. ‘The Cauldron And The Cross’ is akin to the more progressive arrangements Steve Harris has steered Maiden toward in recent years, while kaleidoscopic closer ‘Andromeda’ has more parts than EastEnders.

It says much for our world that we can veer from that to Preyrs, a mesmerising experience that eludes classification. Talismanic singer Amy Montgomery, sweetness itself between songs, is possessed utterly within the music. You watch as she lurches, stomps and gurns as if controlled by an evil puppeteer. Vocally, she might remind you of Florence Welch, but this Florence is not so much with The Machine as raging against it. ‘Wave Of Wisdom’ is shrill with jagged, dissonant guitars, while ‘Bring Your Bruises’ seems less about threat and more about resolve. “If you’re going to project the dark you must also project the light,” Amy tells us, and if that’s the aim, Preyrs can consider this mission accomplished.

Lee-la Baum’s smile gets all the wider when The Damn Truth frontwoman takes in the sight of this packed room – packed purely because her band has set foot in it. Such is the Juno-nominated quartet’s burgeoning reputation, and what patchouli-fragranced voodoo it is. Take any song you like, The Damn Truth just amplify it, make everything friendly and colourful. Tonight, ‘Love Outta Luck’ walks with the cool swagger anyone from Hendrix to Blues Pills would recognise, while the double whammy of ‘This Is Who We Are Now’ and ‘All Night Long’ pair up elevator choruses that take you straight to the top floor. Oh, and when they turn the dial down, the extraordinary ‘If I Don’t Make It Home’ is a strong candidate for the weekend’s biggest emotional wrench. That longing for homespun love and comfort is made tangible, something everyone can touch, and even the normally perma-grinning Lee-la is fighting back tears at the end. Let’s state it clearly – Canada’s The Damn Truth are band of the day by a country mile.

Orianthi’s guitar CV is so starry you might think she’d just dreamed it up. Alice Cooper, Michael Jackson, Richie Sambora… But here’s the thing – all that was really just her side hustle. This chisel-cheeked Australian has six solo albums to her name, and her headline slot tonight focuses mostly on these. It’s blues-lined, sassy rock with her trademark pyrotechnic guitar solos, stuff Orianthi makes look effortless. There’s ‘Light It Up’, ‘Attention’ and ‘Heaven In This Hell’, polished up blues riffs and primal groove that keeps attentive heads nodding. So bright has her star shone that she seemingly has to wear shades in the dark, but once she’s easing that slinky voice and general sang froid around B.B. King and ZZ Top covers, she’s clearly the coolest cat in the house. Classy writing. Dazzling guitar solos. Star quality. What more do you want on a Saturday night in Porthcawl?

Saturday at Winter's End 2026 in photos:

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