Blindshot are currently in the process of refining their “style”. They blast through a set of hard rock covers with the energetic delivery of a newly formed band revelling in the thrill of being front stage and in front of a crowd. Singer ‘Aero’ looks a born front man; his confident stage presence coupled with an adaptable voice compliments the bass and drums perfectly. It will be interesting to see what material they put out when they decided on their direction. “Goodnight Anita”’ tread the increasingly well worn path of Hardcore bands aping their idols. While their set certainly fired the blood, it didn’t tick any of the creative boxes required to bump a band up from “talented” to “exciting.” But this isn’t to say that they are without talent, far from it, their gifted drummer is blurred by the frantic twirl of his sticks, and some of the guitar work is fantastic. A band with potential, but at the moment limited creative scope, which may come with maturity.
Halfway through and there’s the palpable feeling that something has been missing, that elusive spark that ignites a crowd from static zombies chucking back choreographed draughts of lager to feral mob covered in perspiration, enter ”Shot Dead”. Armed with an arsenal of scathing, jilted punk psalms they light the fuse the second they step onto the stage and promptly heave a fizzing device into our midst. Lead singer Tom looks as if he’s had a cattle prod inserted into his sphincter, he clings to the microphone, yelping like he’s being exorcised, and for some reason, it really works. Third song “Won’t Be The Same Again” seethes with the sort of unhinged, jerky riffs and slurred vocals that have served “The Enemy” so well. The audience are suddenly animated, heads nod, feet shuffle and there’s the unmistakable pang somewhere of a chord being struck between act and audience, I doubt that anyone who saw the four dodgy looking characters ripping up the stage and throwing back cans of fosters will soon forget them.
“Come closer” entices the creepy figure on the stage “I won’t bite too hard,” I take two steps backwards. “Jack and the Beanstalks,” frontman, Jack, certainly cuts an odd figure, with his 60’s bowl haircut and arms that don’t appear to be connected to his body he struts along the stage with the self assuredness of a young Jarvis Cocker, the crowd are fixated. His deadpan vocal delivery cuts through the marvellous racket that his “Beanstalks” create; they have found and filled the musical wasteland between Iggy Pop and the Doors. The bands abstract tendencies seep though during bizarre but catchy numbers “Idle Hans Understands” and “I Am the Slug” and their stage performance is equally as abstruse. A man with a paper mache orange on his head stumbles around banging into equipment and band members while their guitarist lays on the dancefloor spinning on his back, with all this going on it would have been easy to miss Tom from Shot Dead furiously hammering the cymbals at the back of the stage during “6+1”. They certainly provided a chaotic end to the night!