Meryl Streek at The 100 Club

Words and Photographs: Eerie Rose

Autumn has finally hit London. It’s still only the start of October, but the night creeps up dark and inky before I finished work, the bright fluorescent retail lights pushing back against the shadowy sky perpetually trying to crawl through the windows. I made my way down Oxford Street, nimbly dodging the streams of tourists and Thursday evening merrymakers, until I could cut down the stairs to the left into the iconic 100 Club. No matter how many times I find myself within the red painted walls of that basement, it’s not lost on me how incredible it is to get to continue the legacy of such an important venue that has hosted the likes of Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Clash, Sex Pistols, Suede, Oasis to name only a few.

Last night, adding to that ever growing list of musicians to grace the 100 club stage, was none other than Meryl Streek. A self-proclaimed politically outspoken Irish avant-garde punk artist, Streek has become well known for his unique style of audio collage, blending hard hitting lyrics with soundbites and samples, abrasive synths and hypnotic rhythms. The night was put on by DIY Magazine and Fifth Floor Live, to celebrate the release of the new record, ‘Stories They Don’t Teach You at School.’

The room was already heaving as I slid through to the side of the stage to catch the support set from queercore punk’s Shooting Daggers. I had the pleasure of interviewing the trio after their set at 2000 Trees Festival in 2024, where we spoke about carving out a space for their queer-focused angst within the hardcore scene. It was great to see them in a different setting to their usual crowd, with a more contemplative audience that shifted the focus directly onto the music. It’s hard not to love their unique blend of punk and hardcore with riot grrrl and shoegaze elements, and by the end of the set both new and old fans alike were hooked.

As they finished, I caught sight of my long-time friend and favourite photographer Jeanie Jean, and found my way to the makeshift photo pit that the 100 club is so wonderful for (a pillar directly in front of the stage, that we can all huddle in front of and shoot to our hearts content without fear of blocking any audience member’s view). The energy was electric, sharing stories of seeing Meryl Streek before (I deeply appreciated Jeanie’s warning that he moves VERY fast). It became apparent the majority of us were covering the night for independent media, something I felt very grateful to DIY Magazine and Fifth Floor for orchestrating this - sometimes in the industry, the temptation is to push for the biggest media outlets only, but it felt poignant that so many of us smaller magazines and creatives had been given the opportunity to be there - like a positive chain of grassroots supporting grassroots, DIY supporting DIY.

A bunch of flowers taped to the microphone stand, lyrics arranged on a stand, drummer in place…and it was time to begin. Hood up, bright white contacts glaring, Meryl Streek appeared from the crowd with a stride that emanated intensity, rage, and a righteous anger. Storming from one side of the stage to the other, I felt hypnotised, like watching the swinging of a pendulum; however, instead of being put to sleep, the music made me feel like I was waking up. A steady and rhythmic beat, danceable, overlaid with soundbites from news reports, commentary on the state of the world, intense fast drumming (Streek’s background as a drummer is incredibly clear in his writing across all three records) and then the vocals: harsh, blending punk style spoken shout-singing with a way of dancing over the beat that is reminiscent of 90s hiphop and rap. It’s very obvious that this is music made by someone who has extensive experience playing and enjoying a variety of genres, the layering of styles is incredibly satisfying to listen to and takes you on a journey throughout the duration of the set. Thematically, Meryl Streek’s discography explores a variety of injustices, from the housing crisis and bloodthirsty landlords to the discomfort and processing of grief and of those taken too soon. At first, his furious pacing led me to believe we were being spoken to - that this stage was a pulpit, that we must heed the words like warnings; to some extent this is true, however as the set progressed it became obvious that we were instead a part of something, that this anger was actually our collective anger, our experiences in our day to day lives being heard and addressed. Tracks like ‘Depression’ from the new record really captured this sentiment: the riff surges and filled me with hope, lyrics repeating “and it’s never too late to become someone better […] and I’d rather be myself than be nothing at all.”

In true fashion for an album release party we got to hear the new tracks at such an early point in their lifespan that the lyric sheets were still required, eventually falling from the stand one by one dramatically and spreading around the stage in a flurry. ‘Stories They Don’t Teach You at School’ is a distinctly dark record, reflecting the horrors of everyday life that have now become the new normal around us. What is special though, is it’s ability to show the light at the end of the tunnel. For a body of work that is so angry, it is also viscerally full of hope. ‘Housing For All’ for example is a song depicting those who fall through the cracks in our broken system, but set against synth lines that have a euphoric swell, reminiscent of artists such as Nixer and Kontravoid. The story is sad but the music seems to say that there’s hope…that maybe this life still had meaning and still deserves the chance to try. The dancier the track, the more it feels like a call to arms to take that energy and use it to make real change.

At one point in the set, Meryl Streek announced that the next new song needed some context, and explained that it was a song for Kelly Lynch, a 23 year old woman who was found dead under a bridge in the Ulster Canal in Ireland in 2024. Her death was not treated as suspicious from the start, removing her right to a proper investigation by neglecting to treat the scene as a crime scene from the start - despite there being 93 different injuries left on her body. The track states that “justice needs to be done,” and I felt goosebumps rise on my arms and tears threatening at the corners of my eyes listening to the sheer horror that her death and it’s aftermath have been. It felt very significant for this to be a song chosen for the record, in an age where we are still fighting for justice against oppressive patriarchy, misogyny and rape culture. The news of the Cornell 50+ (all of them are just as bad as those 7) still feels so fresh, and being able to hold space for that and all the many women who have lost their lives or had them irrevocably changed at the hands of vile men felt very special, and I appreciated Streek taking the opportunity to speak on the issue.

There was barely a single break in the entire set, except to say brief thank yous between songs and express humble gratitude for the opportunity to play at the 100 club (an opportunity that was clearly entirely deserved). The audience (and myself) were transfixed from start to finish, bodies moving to ‘Death to the Landlord’ and taking part in singing parts of ‘Paddy’. I certainly didn’t want the show to finish, but instead of feeling disappointed as the lights came on and the throngs of people began to form a huddle around the merch table I felt a sense of elation that there are still real punk artists out there, whatever that word means. Irrespective of genre, Meryl Streek is an artist who puts the art first - the music is a vehicle for change, the lyrics a space for serious issues to be addressed and not left as an elephant in the room. Every track is hard hitting and has meaning, with no regard for the fact that openly critiquing politics in this way can often result in stunting your financial success as a musician. Meryl Streek as a project is not about fame or success - it’s about the power that art has to change the world, and as I ascended back out of the 100 Club basement back into the cold October air, I felt reminded that that could actually be possible.

Listen to the new record on all streaming platforms now, and consider purchasing a physical or digital copy to help give Meryl Streek the chance to get ‘Stories They Don’t Teach You at School’ in the charts. Follow Meryl Streek on instagram to stay up to date with live shows and more.