The Smyths @ Portsmouth’s Wedgwood Rooms

There are tribute bands, and then there’s whatever The Smyths are doing, because for two hours at the Wedgewood Rooms in Portsmouth, it genuinely felt like watching The Smiths. Not a version of them, not an approximation. The real feeling.

A huge part of that is the venue itself. The Wedgewood Rooms is small, warm, and unpretentious, the kind of room where the band and the crowd are practically sharing the same air. That intimacy did so much of the work here. There was no distance, no big stage separating performer from audience, just a packed room united in something that felt properly communal.

The set opened strong with “The Queen Is Dead” and “Frankly, Mr. Shankly”, setting a brisk, confident tone before easing into “Vicar in a Tutu” and then “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out”, which brought the whole room to a hush before every voice in the place joined in on the chorus. That early in the night, and it already felt like the moment you stop watching a tribute act and start feeling like you’re at an actual Smiths gig.

The middle stretch was where the band really got to show their range. “Cemetry Gates” and “Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others” gave way to a properly heavy run through “I Know It’s Over”, delivered with real tenderness, and “Bigmouth Strikes Again”, which hit with proper swagger and drew one of the biggest reactions of the night. Diving into Morrissey solo territory with “Suedehead” and “The Last of the Famous International Playboys” was a lovely touch too, showing a band who understand this catalogue inside and out, not just performing it but living inside it.

By the time they hit “Panic”, “Sheila Take a Bow”, and “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”, the room was fully theirs. “This Charming Man” and “Still Ill” felt like inevitable high points rather than crowd-pleasing obligations, the singer’s phrasing and the guitarist’s every Marr-esque flourish had stopped feeling like impersonation and started feeling like channelling. Closing with “How Soon Is Now?” was the perfect call, that tremolo intro alone got a roar before a single lyric had even landed.

Sound was tight all night, which matters more than people realise in a room this size. Nothing muddy, nothing lost, just clarity that let every one of those guitar lines breathe.

What struck me most is how easy it became to forget none of this was the actual band. The songs, the room, the energy in the crowd, it all came together so completely that the illusion never cracked once. If you love The Smiths and want to feel that magic again in a setting as close and personal as the Wedgewood Rooms, this is about as good as it gets. Highly recommended.