Three Blind Wolves at Sleazy’s, 22/2/14

My hasty power walk from train station to venue added to my seemingly adolescent excitement.

I had been aware of this band since vaguely associating with them in undergraduate Stirling, and they had apparently left a rather lasting impression on me.

 

Inhabiting the furthest booth from the entrance are Three Blind Wolves; they are truly hidden in plain sight, blending in amongst the other patrons, with one difference, they’ve got their game faces on.

Crowded but orderly, the audience have their eyes toward a slightly Christmas themed stage, green and red light up the faces of the band.

Their clearly loyal following assists when taking mistakes in stride, as light-hearted humour covers up any possible embarrassment.

The contradictory blend of professional sound alongside an air of welcome, humble confidence is unsettling but pleasant.

Closing my eyes I am greeted with a combination of perfect harmony and gravelly lead vocals, as Ross Clark appears emotionally wise beyond his years; passion rings true throughout.

Unlike the moshpits of my youth I am enveloped in a crowd that is swaying as if choreographed.

Although the climax of each song conjures up images of angsty teens rocking out after a fight with the parentals, this gaggle knows how to have fun responsibly.

With much going on in each song it is impossible to be bored, the Three Blind Wolves team takes you on a journey of varied tempo, with elements of optimism and pessimism ever present.

Fearghas Lyons’ drum skills are not ignored into the background as with many other bands, but are an integral component of the quest.

Toward the end of the set I get lost in the accessible emotional content and admiration of vintage style guitar straps when we discover it is Clark’s birthday.

It is as though we have gotten to know him so well that we cheer as friends instead of strangers at this news.

My fellow crowd members have made a transition into a horde of fellow musicians singing along in key as opposed to screeching out indecipherable words.

The last compliment I’ll pay Three Blind Wolves is that they know how to move to their music without looking like they’re having some kind of seizure; well done, boys.

Words: Dani Cole

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