A raw, communal portrait of a band catching fire in real time, Westside Cowboy’s debut EP ‘This Better Be Something Great’ captures the thrill of shared instinct, loud-room intimacy, and the belief that the best music isn’t built for perfection, but for connection. With the arrival of their sophomore EP and momentum building faster than ever, the Manchester-based “Britainicana” band are already carrying that first spark into bigger rooms and wider horizons, proving that what began in rattly bedrooms can grow without losing its heart – or its edge.

Stream: “Shells” – Westside Cowboy

Westside Cowboy haven’t so much entered the music world as crashed through it – with scuzzy indie rock at its finest, sweetened by a country tinge and played like the amps might combust if they hold back.

There’s a particular kind of thrill in the way they let their music sprawl and snap at once: Loud, bold, unpolished in all the right places, and somehow still achingly sincere beneath the grit. It’s the sound of a band choosing instinct over preciousness – four people locked into the same feverish impulse, chasing that rare moment when a riff, a rhythm, and a feeling all hit at the exact same time.

That energy first announced itself last year through This Better Be Something Great, a debut EP that arrived with joyful inevitability – the earliest expressions of a band discovering its chemistry in real time. There’s no polish-for-polish’s-sake, no hedging, no restraint. Instead, the record barrels forward on momentum and conviction, introducing Westside Cowboy as a group more interested in connection than perfection, making music meant to be shared, shouted, and felt together. Released in August 2025 via Heist or Hit and Nice Swan Records, the EP immediately positioned them as a band whose power lives in motion and belief.

This better be something great
Clench your jaw till your teeth ache
If the building doesn’t sway
then the concrete’s gonna break
You need to connect the dots
And find out where I got this from
In that time I could have died
and felt perfectly alive

There are shells in the water
and birds underneath
Done enough in my life
to deserve the air I breathe
Now sadness this time
could not mean anything to me
So I’ll just sleep with a gun

– “Shells,” Westside Cowboy

At its core, This Better Be Something Great is an origin story – a snapshot of Westside Cowboy before expectations, before acceleration, before the idea of a “career” entered the room. The EP gathers the first songs the band ever wrote together, capturing a moment when instinct ruled everything and the only real goal was to make something raw, honest, and alive. This music carries the excitement of discovery and the hum of possibility – it’s about immediacy, community, and the thrill of four people realizing, almost accidentally, that they were onto something.

Comprised of Aoife Anson O’Connell, James (Jimmy) Bradbury, Paddy Murphy, and Reuben Haycocks, Westside Cowboy formed in Manchester as friends first and bandmates second, bound by a shared love of loud guitars, classic songwriting, and the kind of scrappy, communal spirit that predates genre lines. They’ve described their sound as “Britainicana” rock music – a self-coined shorthand for American musical mythology filtered through English small-town sensibilities – but at its heart, their music resists labels. It’s punk-hearted and country-tinged, rowdy and melodic, traditional and reckless all at once, fueled by a desire to make songs that feel welcoming rather than insular.

That ethos runs through This Better Be Something Great in both sound and spirit.

The five-track EP leans into the visceral physicality of a band playing together in a room – drums cracking, guitars ringing, voices fighting to be heard – while holding space for tenderness and emotional candor. It’s a debut defined by shared purpose and belief: Trust in the song, in the moment, and in the idea that music works best when it belongs to everyone in the room.

That spirit carried directly into how This Better Be Something Great was made. Rather than overthinking the debut or treating it as a defining statement, Westside Cowboy approached the recording with the same looseness and trust that shaped the songs themselves. The goal wasn’t transformation – it was preservation: capturing the feeling of a band playing together while it still felt new, instinctive, and a little unreal.

“The EP was recorded in January of this year with our good friends Lewis and Rob, in Greenmount Studios in Leeds,” drummer Paddy Murphy tells Atwood Magazine. “This was the first time that anyone had ever given us a little bit of money to go and make anything like this (shout out Heist or Hit and Nice Swan Records), so we were feeling pretty giddy about that.” The setting only heightened the sense of separation from the outside world. “On the second day of tracking, it started tipping down with snow,” he recalls. “We had to walk our Converse through it to get to the studio because Reuben’s car couldn’t get out. It felt really surreal, trying to record the songs in the basement of a converted church, drinking tea and standing around the radiator between takes, whilst the rest of the outside had felt like it had ground to a halt.” In that snowed-in stillness, expectations fell away. “We were in our own little world a bit, with no real expectations other than ‘ah cool, we’re gonna get some good recordings from this!’ The idea that anyone from out of our immediate circle would care at all about what we were making didn’t really occur to us.”

That insularity shaped the sound as much as the songs themselves. Westside Cowboy weren’t trying to reinvent their material in the studio – they were trying to let it breathe the same way it had back home. “To be honest we just wanted it to sound like my bedroom,” Murphy says. “That was where we had written and practiced all of the songs. There was so much shite everywhere and it was so loud that it would sort of just rattle everything, so we just wanted to capture that mostly.” The approach was immediate and unvarnished: “Because of this, we did it all live, and tried to be as sparing as possible with overdubs as we could. It had to be simple, bordering on stupid.” Only toward the end did they begin to loosen the reins. “‘Drunk Surfer’ was the last song we did, and you can tell because there’s a little more happening in it.”

Together, those early decisions clarify how Westside Cowboy understand This Better Be Something Great within their own story – not as a mission statement or a finished portrait, but as an honest first offering.

For Murphy, the value of the EP lies in its transparency. “It feels quite honest more than anything,” he says. “As we said earlier, these were the first songs we came up with, so it seemed silly to not introduce them to people first.” That sense of introduction matters more than progression here. “Since then, we like to think that we have improved at what we do as well,” he adds, “but for this EP, that’s not really the point.” Instead, the record stands as a moment captured mid-motion. “It’s a snapshot I guess. Us in the rattly bedroom.”

Even the EP’s title reflects that same unguarded spirit – less a declaration than a thought blurted out at the right time. “We don’t really know,” Murphy laughs when asked where This Better Be Something Great came from. “I remember Reuben suggesting it and everyone sort of collectively groaning at it. But it just sort of stuck I suppose?” There’s a blunt humor to the phrase that mirrors the band’s approach. “I like that it sort of sounds like a weird threat though, like oddly bullish,” he continues. “You can almost imagine someone shaking their fist whilst saying it in some stupid way.” In the end, it fits precisely because it wasn’t overthought. “It’s a joke that got out of hand,” Murphy says, “much like this band in general.”

That first spark arrived in late 2024 with “I’ve Never Met Anyone I Thought I Could Really Love (Until I Met You),” a debut single that didn’t just introduce Westside Cowboy, but announce them at full volume.

A whopper of a title matched by the force of the song itself, it landed as a raw, raucous jolt of punk-hearted romance – all grit and momentum, tenderness and adrenaline tangled together. From its opening battle cry to its ceiling-ripping chorus, the track felt like a flag-in-the-sand moment: A love song with its sleeves rolled up, romantic and reckless in equal measure.

For the band, that immediacy wasn’t engineered – it was stumbled into. “I think this was the third song we wrote as a band,” Murphy explains. “It started life as a Casio drum machine keyboard loop that Jimmy brought in, with Reuben doing a bad Stephen Merritt impression on top of it.” Early on, the song felt overworked, burdened by ideas. “We were working on it in my bedroom one day, maybe like two weeks into the band, and it was all too complicated in hindsight. Too many chords and changes and all that. Nothing was really coming of it.” Then, almost accidentally, it snapped into focus. “Without much discussion, if I remember, we just decided to play it the way we do now – basically in full, with the drum fill and everything. It just sort of happened.”

That moment of release set the template. Stripped of excess and played straight through, the song revealed its core: blunt and brash, but deeply heartfelt. “We like that,” Murphy says. “It’s what the band’s all about, I guess, in that way.” Its role as Westside Cowboy’s first single felt inevitable rather than strategic. “I don’t think there was ever any question about it being our first single,” he adds. “It was just sort of assumed, I suppose.”

In retrospect, that instinct carries through the entire EP. “We’re not too sure really,” Murphy says when asked how the track fits into This Better Be Something Great as a whole. “It just felt like the only logical way to open the EP.” That logic isn’t about narrative arcs or conceptual framing – it’s about chronology and feeling. “There isn’t really much narrative about the EP at all, in so much as they were just the first songs we ever wrote together.” What does connect them is something simpler and more durable. “It feels optimistic and community based though,” Murphy reflects, “and that’s something we hope to put across with our music as a whole.” He pauses, then adds the phrase that quietly underpins everything Westside Cowboy do: “No Band Is an Island!”

If “I’ve Never Met Anyone…” throws the door open, the rest of This Better Be Something Great rushes through it at full speed. “Alright Alright Alright” follows like a fever breaking loose – a shuffling, rip-roaring burst of propulsion driven by breathless drums and roaring guitars, all heat and forward motion. It feels explosive and sleepless, restless in the best way, with punk overtones and a ragged, relentless momentum that never quite settles. The song barrels ahead on impulse alone, capturing Westside Cowboy at their most unleashed – loud, physical, and grinning through the chaos as everything threatens to tip over at once.

That sense of velocity sharpens further on “Drunk Surfer,” a barnburner of a track that carries a sleeker strut through its grit. There’s a distinct post-punk snap to it – a rugged, late-night pulse that recalls early-‘00s NYC indie rock without feeling nostalgic or derivative. The song surges and sways, tightening and releasing its grip as it goes, and it’s here that the EP’s live-wire recording approach really shows its teeth.

For Murphy, it’s also home to one of the record’s most treasured details. “I really like the cello at the end of ‘Drunk Surfer,’” he says. “I love how it sort of hisses and squeals about and things.” Then there’s the moment you’d miss if you weren’t listening closely enough: “There’s also a moment in the drop down before the outro that you can hear a bell chime from the church next door to the studio. This is because we left the door open. One of those happy accidents that we knew we had to leave in once we had noticed it.” Those small imperfections – the bleed, the noise, the world sneaking into the recording – become part of the song’s nervous electricity.

From there, This Better Be Something Great softens without losing its weight. “Shells” aches inward, opening as a hushed, confessional murmur before surging into waves of roaring upheaval. The song rises and falls with a graceful volatility, balancing intimacy and collapse in a way that feels both tender and gutting.

And then, almost unexpectedly, the EP closes on “Slowly I’m Sure,” a two-minute exhale that lets the light back in. Stripped to acoustic guitar, vocals, and sun-kissed harmonies, it’s gentle and unresolved in the most human way. Murphy points to one line in particular as a favorite: “Does the chair in your parlour creak when there’s no one around,” a moment he describes as “pretty forlorn in its way,” adding with a grin that he can say that “because I didn’t write it – a Jimmy Bradbury classic.” It’s a quiet, domestic image that lingers long after the song fades, closing the record not with resolution, but with presence. In that finale, Westside Cowboy don’t chase closure; they leave space. The noise fades, the room grows still, and what remains is the feeling that this was never meant to be the end – just the beginning, captured exactly as it was.

Taken as a whole, This Better Be Something Great does exactly what a debut should: it sets the tone, introduces the spirit, and leaves the door wide open. These five songs establish Westside Cowboy as a band driven by instinct, community, and shared belief – music that moves fast, hits hard, and still makes room for tenderness and emotional clarity. It’s a record rooted in togetherness, captured at the precise moment when everything felt possible and nothing felt fixed. More than a statement, it’s an invitation – a first handshake that tells you exactly who they are.

In the time since its release, that invitation has been met with a resounding ‘yes.’ A rapturous summer and fall followed, with breakout performances at The Great Escape, a win at the Glastonbury Emerging Talent competition, and support tours alongside the likes of Blondshell, Black Country, New Road, Ezra Furman, and more, all helping carry the band’s infectious energy into bigger rooms and a growing number of ears. Now, with their sophomore EP out via Adventure Recordings, So Much Country ’Till We Get There expands the world Westside Cowboy first introduced last year – honing their senses, stretching their sound, and deepening their emotional range while staying true to the raw, open-hearted identity that made This Better Be Something Great resonate in the first place. The scope may be widening, but the core remains unchanged: Music for everyone, built on trust, noise, and the simple joy of playing together.

Ultimately, what This Better Be Something Great offers is less a statement than a shared feeling – a reminder of why people fall in love with music in the first place.

Beneath the charm and the scuffed edges is a deep commitment to openness: Songs built to be entered, not decoded; to be felt together, not held at a distance. That impulse runs through every part of the record, from its raw construction to its communal spirit, and it’s the throughline Westside Cowboy hope listeners carry with them long after the final chord fades.

“We want our music to feel as inclusive as possible,” Murphy says. “In the UK in recent years, it feels like underground guitar music has become more and more abstract sounding. At best, this has produced some truly one of kind works that we feel so lucky to have experienced. You get past that though, and if not careful, it can all start to feel a bit elitist, and that’s shit. That’s why we love pop music so much. We want people to hear our music and be able to take something away from it, regardless of what you’re into, how old you are, where you’re from, etc. That’s really important to us.”

He continues, grounding that openness in possibility rather than pedigree. “We want other people to feel like they can do it too, you know? It’s not that hard. All you have to do is learn a couple chords and away you go, you’re rocking. No massive pedal board or knowledge of music theory needed. That was how all our favourite music has made us feel at one point or another.”

And while This Better Be Something Great captures a specific moment in time, it hasn’t closed anything off for the band themselves. “We had a lot of fun writing and recording the EP, and we’re happy with it,” Murphy reflects, “but if anything it’s just gotten us more excited for what we are going to do next – how we can put the lessons we learnt with Lewis and Rob to good use going, so we can keep making stuff that we identify with and are proud to offer others.”

In that way, This Better Be Something Great does exactly what it promises: It opens the door, pulls you into the room, and reminds you that the best music doesn’t belong to anyone in particular – it belongs to everyone who shows up.

Experience the full record via our below stream, and peek inside Westside Cowboy’s This Better Be Something Great EP with Atwood Magazine as Paddy Murphy takes us track-by-track through the music and lyrics of the band’s debut EP!

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Stream: ‘This Better Be Something Great’ – Westside Cowboy

:: Inside This Better Be Something Great ::

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I’ve Never Met Anyone I Thought I Could Really Love (Until I Met You)

I think this was either the 2nd or 3rd song we wrote as WSCB. Believe it or not, it began life as a shitty Magnetic Fields impression, but it took a turn quite quickly. Without much conversation about it about half the chords and sections and then played it like a rock song, cutting out anything too flowery, and there it is i suppose. LOUD quiet LOUD. Verse Chorus Verse repeat. It was the first time that any of us had had a part in writing a half decent pop song, and none of us could really believe it. Not to say that song is anything special, not at all, but it was our little scuffed rendition i guess.

Alright Alright Alright

This one came a couple of days before the former. What can we say? It’s a punk song about a below average cattle rancher, to call him a cowboy would generous perhaps. It gets faster every time we play it these days though. Like if Marty Robbins listened to Bad Brains.

Drunk Surfer

This was probably the most ambitious we got with the EP. We afforded ourselves a few extra overdubs than usual, hence Aoife’s Cello bit later on. We wanted it to feel quite dizzying by the end of it. Like it was falling apart at the seams but just managing to hold it together. We recorded the whole EP live, and this one definitely benefitted from that a lot. It’s speeds up, slows down, breathes in breathes out, and you can hear Reuben get all shirty at the end too which is fun.

Shells

I suppose it’s the closest that we have come to ballad so far. I type that whilst trying not to spit on the floor. It nearly stayed fully acoustic, but me and Jimmy needed something to do, we came in and ruined it a bit. It ducks and dives about a fair amount, but we like it that way. The lyrics are by a monologue from a film that’ll remain nameless.

Slowly I’m Sure

The oldest of the bunch. I remember Jimmy first showing the demo of it to us, basically fully formed, and none of us had anything to add. It’s a song that we all have a soft spot for in the band. It says all that needs to be said.

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:: connect with Westside Cowboy here ::

:: stream/purchase So Much Country ’Till We Get There here ::

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 © Charlie Barclay Harris

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