The Blinders playing Neighbourhood Weekender 2018 (Gary Mather for Live4ever)
The last gig on a month-long, whistle-stop tour of the UK saw The Blinders head to the unique Bristol Thekla, surely the only venue in the UK on a boat. Or if not the only, certainly the best.
Support for the entire tour came from White Room, and the whole night had an ‘end of term’ feel about it. Dressed in what can only be described as a Roger Moore off-cut (if that sounds like an insult, it’s not – he pulls it off gloriously), singer Jake Smallwood fluctuated vocally between David Bowie and Sparks and was constantly on the move despite the limited space he had. It was limited because the band is made up of five members and about twice as many instruments, all of which contributed to a brief but wonderfully eclectic trip.
Half an hour later, darkness descended and Pure Imagination from Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory filled the boat. Then, suddenly, the lights came up and The Blinders ripped into Gotta Get Through.
Enhancing the wonderful drama of their debut album Columbia, it was a very visual performance. Johnny Dream evoked Marc Bolan as he used the guitar as a prop, pointing it at the crowd as if it were a gun, while the debonair Charlie McGough on bass pulled all manner of poses, preening and pouting at the crowd. In contrast, drummer Matt Neale is the grounded presence that enabled his band mates to exhibit wildly, being unassuming yet mighty.
The songs sounded huge; Brave New World seemed a beat or two slower but that made it more claustrophobic, while Where No Man Comes was optimistically doom-laden. Meanwhile, during Swine, Dream jumped off the stage, walked into the crowd and sat on the floor chanting the mantra ‘there is no hope’ while hysterical fans accompanied him.
He’s a brave man. The crowd arguably stole the band’s thunder. Your writer was up in the balcony so had a bird’s eye view of the mob. Constantly pushing and shoving each other, or moshing like in days gone by, the punters were a swell of sweat and enthusiasm. Unsurprisingly, it was mainly made up of younger people unrestrained by self-consciousness or worn down by life, but not entirely; there were more than a few white and grey heads rocking out with the best of them.
It’s testament to the Blinders’ appeal that they can transcend and unite the generations, and restores hope in the unifying power of rock and roll. There was air drumming and crowd-surfing, hands in the air while legs disappeared into the maelstrom. From above, it was a glorious sight to behold. The tempo was consistently raised until a final salvo of Ramona Flowers, Et Tu and its immediate partner Brutus, relentless in its ferocity, took us to rock heaven. No-one could take any more, so wisely the band don’t try.
As the other two departed the stage, under a red spotlight Dream performed the sublime Orbit, his trademark black make-up virtually non-existent through exertion. Not so much blinding as breathtaking.
