W: Eloise Apple I: Hannah Johns
“Felt Like Johnny Rotten there.” A lyric that captures the younger generation’s growing relationship with punk, reshaping its meaning while keeping its history close. The Sick Fix, an emerging Manchester band, are doing just that. Their reckless, raw energy exists both on record and on stage. Already making noise in the industry, their sound is feral and restless. Picture Kate Moss hanging out of a car window, cigarette lit, while Pete Doherty scrapes at a guitar string. They’re wired, unpredictable, and constantly on edge.
At just 16–17 years old, The Sick Fix are anything but soft. Their youth sharpens rather than dilutes their rebellious, riotous sound, with tracks that feel uncontained, sparking chaos through your speakers. Whether they’re using music to unleash outrage or offer release, it feels urgent and alive. The band briefly stepped away from their teenage defiance to talk through what fuels the riffs, the riot, and the revolt.
The band’s origin story is refreshingly human. There was no masterplan, no careful curation. As frontman Leo puts it, “it all just kinda fell into place.” It began when Leo met drummer Ted through a mutual friend and told him he wanted to start a band. At first, Leo was sceptical. Ted, a roadman of sorts, is rarely seen without a black puffer jacket, not exactly punk on paper. That assumption didn’t last long. After their first rehearsal, Leo realised Ted was “the best drummer I’d ever met.” The rest of the band came together via Facebook, a detail I couldn’t help teasing them about, though clearly Meta’s algorithm knew exactly what it was doing.
Eighteen months on, I asked the boys what they expected when they first started out. Ollie admits he didn’t expect much at all, only realising the band’s potential once they finally jammed together. Alfie, meanwhile, assumed they’d stay local, never imagining they’d move beyond Manchester. That clearly hasn’t been the case. As Leo puts it, they have “the visionary.” The confidence, bordering on arrogance, feels almost like a form of manifestation, recalling early Gallagher brothers bravado.
That confidence, however, hasn’t always been met with respect. Being under 18 in the music industry has created its own frustrations. Alfie is quick to shut down any suggestion that they’re just “cute kids playing punk.” Leo talks about the condescension they face from sound engineers who refuse to take them seriously, while Ollie is blunt about under-18 venues, calling them “the worst”. Leo points out the hypocrisy of venues that claim to support young artists while locking them out of the very spaces they need to grow. Punk has always thrived on access, not gatekeeping.
Trying to pin The Sick Fix to a single genre is pointless. Ollie insists that “none of our songs sound the same,” a refusal to settle that feels central to the band’s identity. Leo describes their sound as “street music, not dad’s got a yacht music,” distancing the band from the polished indie scene and its reliance on nepotism. He doesn’t hesitate when expanding on this. Bands born out of industry connections, churning out “average pub rock,” bore him, particularly when working musicians with original ideas are deprived of opportunities due to a lack of connections.
On stage, that rawness is fully unleashed. The Sick Fix pride themselves on being human. As Leo puts it, “you’ll catch the odd fuck-up because we’re real. That’s the beauty of it.” He imagines a football stadium compressed into a single room, bodies funnelled together, jumping, throwing themselves at the mic. Chaos. Freedom. Perfection has never been the aim. The band wants to make people feel free, to give them space to drop their troubles and lose themselves for a night.
Looking ahead, the band are already shifting shape. Their upcoming project, ‘Shoe Shopping / Liquid Gold’, hints at evolution rather than repetition. Leo describes ‘Shoe Shopping’ as “more robotic, almost dancey,” while Ollie references older tracks like ‘Clang & Bang’, calling ‘Liquid Gold’ “closer to our old sound.” The contrast feels deliberate, a punk band willing to flirt with contradiction.
After hearing a sneak peek of the new EP, it’s clear The Sick Fix are evolving with a sound the industry genuinely needs. Unafraid to experiment and uninterested in polish, they prove that age places no limit on talent. My advice is simple. Keep an eye on these lads. They’re only just getting started.