There’s bite and bark in this Rare Breed
Rare Breed doesn’t do polite introductions. Their self-titled debut comes out swaggering in a cloud of dust, all snarling riffs, and the kind of grin that suggests they know exactly how good they are.
Hailing from Mossley, Manchester, Rare Breed deal in filthy, blues-streaked alt-rock’n’roll that lands somewhere between a barroom brawl and a last-orders singalong. Adam Brooke brings the rasp and the six-string bite, Arty Haire’s bass rumbles underneath with real swagger, and Oliver Sergent drives the whole thing like he’s got somewhere to be. Opening Firevolt 2025, they turned a sunny afternoon into something louder, looser and far more dangerous.
Opener ‘ Swap’ is the kind of track that tells you everything you need to know about this band in the first thirty seconds. Adam’s gritty vocals and blues‑soaked guitar tone hit like a jolt to the system — raw, human, and full of that feeling you can’t fake. It’s a bold choice for an opener, but it works because it’s honest. It’s Rare Breed saying, this is who we are — take it or leave it.
From there, the album starts to unfurl with real intent. ‘Pieces’ is an early standout — a track that hits harder the more you sit with it. There’s something beautifully bruised about the way it moves, a kind of emotional weight that sneaks up on you. It’s the song you go back to without even realising you’ve hit repeat.
‘Heartache’ and ‘Good Times’ keep the momentum high, each one carrying that blend of grit and melody that Rare Breed seem to have hard‑wired into their DNA. The rhythm section deserves real credit here — tight, punchy, and always serving the song rather than showing off.
Mid‑album, ‘English Rose ’ shows just how much range this band has. There’s swagger, sure, but there’s also restraint. Space. Confidence. They know when to push with guitar riffs that would not look out of place on a Led Zep LP, but they also know when to pull back, and that’s something you can’t teach. Raw and natural, just how I like it.
The final stretch — ‘Beggin’ (On My Knees)’ keeps the energy alive without losing the heart. Each track adds something new: a hook, a riff, a lyric that sticks with you longer than you expect. This is a band that knows how to build an album, not just a playlist.
Closing tracks then bring everything full circle. ‘Amsterdam’ starts off like a softer landing, but not a weaker one. It feels like the band taking a breath, letting the dust settle, and showing you the beating heart beneath all the noise. Then we hit ‘Howlin’’ which reminds me of swaying in that summer sun at Firevolt. Pure raw blues playing from Adam that holds space and brings the entire album to a poignant close.
And that’s the thing about Rare Breed — they’re not chasing perfection. They’re chasing feeling. And they catch it, track after track. This album doesn’t just sound good. It means something. It’s the sound of a band stepping into themselves, fully and fearlessly. If this is where they’re starting, the future’s going to be loud, emotional, and very, very exciting.
