Newmarket has never been known as a hotbed for emerging musical talent. Beyond the infamous Newmarket Nights—a string of racecourse gigs that relentlessly wheel out the likes of Tom Jones or the Sugababes to fields of sunburnt punters—there’s little in the way of a live music scene. Aside from the occasional pub covers band, it’s a cultural dead zone for grassroots music.
And yet, Newmarket’s location makes this all the more puzzling. The town sits almost equidistant between two music-rich hubs: Bury St Edmunds, once dubbed the "UK's Seattle" by John Peel (https://www.vice.com/en/article/the-ill-fated-tale-of-bury-st-edmunds-the-british-market-town-john-peel-dubbed-the-new-seattle/), and Cambridge, a city steeped in rock history.
But it wasn’t always this quiet.
Tucked away in the Valley Way housing estate once stood The Palomino—an unassuming pub that became an unlikely epicentre for local music and underage drinking. On any given night, you could stumble into something unexpected: the good, the bad, the heavy, the downright bizarre.
Admittedly, my generation only caught the final act of The Palomino—viewed through drunken, unappreciative eyes—but by all accounts, it was no easy stage to conquer. Acts passed through its doors with varying levels of success, facing crowds far more brutally honest than the overly supportive, hyper-curated audiences that new artists often encounter in 2025.
Any bands who braved the Palomino still out there? Get in touch, we've got a slot for you.
