Honeyblood

I’ll be honest. I got confused between Honeyblood and Black Honey when I requested to review this band. ’twas a happy confusion. Serendipity at its finest.

Date: November 22, 2016

Venue: Bodega

Scotland is a fertile land in musical spheres. It’s a rich breeding ground for melodies oozing with nods to your favourite indie bands. Honeyblood, essentially Glaswegian girls Stina Tweeddale (vocals, guitar, cute) and Cat Myers (vocals, drums, warpaint), tap into the C86 era, back when it was cool to drench the songs you recorded in your bathroom with a delicious layer of scuzz but with just enough opacity to give it a pop sheen.

Their new record, Babes Never Die, has taken the scuzz-pop gradient up an extra notch. Comparisons have been made to Strawberry Switchblade and Best Coast, the latter a big influence on the girls.

But it’s their ebullient indie pop that whets the appetite of this sell-out crowd.

In fairness, it takes the crowd a while to get going, as the girls perform a set consisting of many new songs.

But after Stina threatens to break into the Spice Girls’ Two Become One and Cat threatens to walk out in disgust – all in jest of course – the mood switches.

Sea Hearts flips the usual narrative of a woman scorned to that of a woman defiant: “We’ll break hearts that get in the way,” she promises before giddily indulging in chants of “Hey hey! It’s just a little heartbreak!”.

Babes Never Die, meanwhile, sees front woman Stina invite five lucky fans onto the stage before she snarls its “Babes never die” mantra over a serrated guitar lines.

With no encore they tear into Rat which sounds like a barbed Taylor Swift song and end with Killer Bangs.

Sweet, harmonious, friendly and superb, Honeyblood were like bloody honey for the ears.

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