Nine Brilliant UK Side Projects Worth Leaving the House For in 2026
There is a particular British magic to a project that has no business existing. No board, no press officer, no gift shop. Just someone with a stapler, a spare room and a slightly unreasonable idea. In 2026, some of the most interesting cultural evenings are happening well away from the big institutions. This is not an argument against institutions. It is an argument for the side project: the messy, underfunded, gloriously specific side project.
What follows is a curated, entirely subjective list of nine UK side projects that have crossed over from weekend whim to cultural must-see. Some are tiny. Some are slightly inconvenient. All of them are worth the trip.
1. The Launderette Zine Library, Peckham
Nadia Okafor started Spin Cycle Reading Room because she was tired of storing zines under her bed. Every second Sunday, a launderette near Rye Lane becomes a reading room: local illustrators, photocopied poetry, a shelf of comics you can read while your whites tumble. There is no entry fee. There is a kettle. The rule is simple: read something, leave something, or just sit with the spin cycle and pretend you are in a film.
2. The Canal Towpath Gallery, Leeds
Elliot Marsh zip-ties reclaimed frames to a fence along the Leeds-Liverpool Canal and calls it a gallery. The exhibitions change monthly. There are no opening hours, no invigilators and no private view, although a few people have been known to bring cans. A recent show featured photographs of forgotten footbridges. If the rain takes it down, that is part of the programme.
3. The Cassette Field Recording Label, Glasgow
Moira Fenwick runs Hedge Tape, a micro-label releasing twenty-minute cassettes of sounds she records around the city: rain on bin lids, a lorry reversing, the particular hum of a stairwell. Launch nights happen in a community hall with a boombox and a lot of tea. The project is not ironic. It is genuinely lovely. Listening, it turns out, is a skill, and so is making a cup of tea for forty people.
4. The Record Shop Supper Club, Bristol
Tunde Adeyemi hosts Counter Culture Kitchen in a record shop after closing time. The menu is built around a record: a West African highlife night, a dub night, a night of sad Scottish indie that somehow ends with everyone eating rice and peas. Tickets go out by mailing list. You bring a plate if you can. The shop smells of vinyl and cumin for three days afterwards.
5. The Mobile Puppet Theatre, Cardiff
Rhiannon Price converted a milk float into a tiny puppet theatre. The Cardboard Assembly performs in courtyards, pub gardens and school playgrounds, with adult shows after dark. The puppets are made from old umbrellas, coat hangers and the kind of cardboard that used to hold a fridge. Puppetry, Rhiannon says, is just sculpture that talks back. The audiences agree.
6. The Typewriter Poet Residency, Belfast
Declan Quinn sets up a typewriter in the Cathedral Quarter on Saturdays and writes poems for strangers. No charge, no queue-jumping, no poem longer than the receipt. He now has a residency in a hardware shop, which is either unlikely or perfect. The archive of poems lives in a drawer behind the counter. Some of them are very good. Some of them are about screws.
7. The Car Park Darkroom, Manchester
Priya Shah runs Bay 47 Darkroom from a multi-storey car park. Workshops in analogue photography, exhibitions on concrete walls, and a darkroom that smells of fixer and diesel. The council granted permission for a six-month trial. That was three years ago. The project now runs monthly and has a waiting list. It is not for everyone, but it is absolutely a vibe.
8. The Bad Mug Club, Sheffield
Jo Whitaker makes deliberately imperfect mugs and invites other people to do the same. The Bad Mug Club meets monthly, swaps mugs, and sells the surplus to fund a shared kiln. A mug that wobbles is a mug that teaches you to slow down. The club has no membership card, no committee and no ambition to become a lifestyle brand. It has a lot of wonky handles.
9. The Stairwell Cinema, Margate
Luca Bellini screens short films in the stairwell of a former guesthouse. Twelve seats, a bedsheet screen, blankets, and a Q&A that happens in the hallway because there is nowhere else for it to happen. Local filmmakers get first refusal. The programme is a mix of animation, documentary and things that are hard to categorise. The popcorn is made in a saucepan.
Why These Projects Matter
These are cultural destinations because they are specific, social and slightly inconvenient. You have to know someone, follow a noticeboard or be told about it by a friend. That friction is not a bug. It is a filter. It means the room is full of people who actually want to be there.
They also outshine institutional offerings in one important way: they do not need to please everyone. They can be odd. They can be tiny. They can fail and come back. A side project is allowed to be a side project, and that freedom is often what makes it good.
So You Want to Start One?
Start with one evening, not a brand. Find a host who gains something from having you there, whether that is footfall, atmosphere or a new audience. Sort permissions early, especially if you are using a public space or a car park. Budget in cash and favours. Make the door easy: free or cheap, clear times, no weird ticketing. Document it with your phone. Build a mailing list. Do not wait for funding to begin.
Protect your energy. The first version should be embarrassingly small. If it works, it will grow. If it does not, you will have learned something and made a few friends. That is a decent return on a weekend.
The side project is not a stepping stone to a proper job. It is a proper thing. If you see a notice in a launderette, go.
