"The Blinders" at Drummonds - Gig Review

Cat Martin

With The Blinders playing an intimate gig at Drummonds in the midst of their 22-date national tour, it was anticipated to be packed from the offset – although even the most optimistic of people could not have anticipated just how many fans would come out of the woodwork to see them. Their rowdy, punk vibe was well supported by the psychedelic Swym and Brighton-based wonders The White Room.

Swym kicked off the night with their dense, synth-heavy sound. Lead singer Scott Bruce’s powerhouse vocals stood out perfectly against the dreamy instrumental backdrop set by the rest of the band. Although their performance style is coyly subdued when compared with the rest of the line-up, they held their own very well (especially faced with opening the show.)

Next on the roster were White Room, who distinguished themselves from the moment they began to play. The groove-influenced rhythms (provided by Hen Sava) were an instant mood-lifter, especially accompanied by Jake Smallwood’s infectious enthusiasm and Bowie-esque voice. The sugary-sweet vocal harmonies between Smallwood and bass guitarist Josie McNamara were artfully arranged within each track. The band are talented beyond their years, always keeping their perspective front and centre when they perform.

From their humble beginnings in the small industrial town of Doncaster to selling out shows in Manchester and London, The Blinders have been riding a sudden wave of recognition perhaps unheard of since Wolf Alice emerged into the scene back in 2013. Their scuzzed-up sound interwoven with political observations has earned them spots on Radio X, Radio 6 and BBC Introducing. 

When the band stepped onto stage, with frontman Thomas Haywood in his signature streaked face paint (featured on the cover of their debut album Columbia) the tension in the crowd finally broke, with raucous cheering and applause from all sides. They played every song from Columbia, with some stand out moments through their set. Matt Neale’s punishing drum beats in the second half of Hate Song match the track’s sense of unfiltered madness – a desperate scream in the face of an apathetic government. L’Etat C’est Moi features ominously dark bass guitar lines from Charlie McGough, written from the perspective of an authoritarian state regarding its people with distinct malice.

The band’s feverish energy and wry observations all tie together in a wave of sound, one that is entirely tempting to be swept up in!