The Blinders

Columbia Modern Sky Uk

Guitars with attitude bite back.

Cast your mind back to the distant past.

To a time when there was a weekly music press. Every season or so these newsprint publications would adorn their front page (to everyone’s increasing disgust, curiously) with a picture of a sullen band

– a petulant facial expression used to indicate a once valued commodity called ‘cool’, apparently – under the rhetorical cover line: ‘Is this the best new band in Britain?’. Well, if we were back in that particular day, this is exactly the 36-point-type question that would be posed with regard to The Blinders.

A Doncaster three-piece who sound as thoroughly posteverything as any band should when operating in such straitened times, The Blinders align scattershot fury with a power-trio sound repurposed for our darker age and a sharp, informed wit.

Take L’etat C’est Moi, where belligerent clanging guitar swathed in Sun reverb surfs on an undertow of insistent swaggering Motörbass and a smack-in-the-face snare assault. Meanwhile, a passion-ravaged vocal hectors on the perpetual edge of desperate distortion, spitting with a raw, incensed agitprop aggression you’d expect to hear more of if the coming generation weren’t quite so sedated by their screens. Genuinely exciting stuff.

Blinding, in fact.