CLIFFORDS // HEADROW HOUSE, LEEDS
Bittersweet and Blistering: Cliffords Hour of Power in Leeds
⭐⭐⭐⭐(4/5)
Cliffords @ Headrow House, Leeds
Photo Credit: John Hayhurst
By the time Cliffords crash into their final chorus, the floor at Headrow House is a mess of pint foam, sweat and stupid grins. Leeds crowds can sometimes be standoffish on a Friday night, but tonight they’re louder than Manchester — and the Cork five-piece drink it in like it’s holy water.
They open with a curveball: Marsh, one of three newly written tracks they will play tonight, Iona Lynch, clutches her rhythm guitar like she’s steering a storm and that voice trancends from light pop to single powerful tones that she seemingly can hold for days.
The band — Gavin Dawkins (bass and trumpet), Harry Menton (lead guitar), Locon O’Toole (keys) and Daniel Ryan (drums) — lock in behind her, tight as barbed wire and twice as sharp. It’s a hell of a way to set the tone: moody, muscular, and impossible to ignore.
Lynch is magnetic, darting around the small stage with the easy charisma of someone born to be up there. Her vocals remain fierce and commanding — especially when her Cork lilt cuts through on If the Shoe Fits, which arrives very early in the set and immediately sends the crowd up a gear.
The set, which clocks in at just over an hour, proves Cliffords have far more up their sleeves than two EPs. Second Skin and Shattered Glass hit especially hard. Dawkins’ trumpet bursts - slice through the fuzz and bring a new dimension to the band’s already expansive sound. Each track feels restless and alive, evolving from jangly charm into full-blown chaos without ever fully losing control.
Midway through, they play My Favourite Monster, another gem from ‘Salt of the Lee’ their current EP released earlier this year. “It’s about a guy from Cork who’s done nothing wrong to me, but I hate him!” Lynch laughs, before ripping into one of the most infectious choruses of the night. There’s warmth and wit behind the noise, a quality that sets them apart from the endless parade of grim-faced indie lad acts currently doing the rounds.
Then comes another new one Blondie, a fizzing pop-punk ode to Deborah Harry that lands like a caffeine shot. From there, it’s a full sprint to the finish with Feels Like a Man, following.
Lynch warns the crowd that only two songs remain, a collective groan ripples through the room.”Can you come a bit closer” and everyone collectively moves forward 6 ft, tonight is sold out so there really isn’t much wiggle room to spare.
Sleeping With Ghosts, is the calm before the storm and finally Bittersweet, my favourite tune of theirs is the fitting closer. As Bittersweet erupts, all complaints vanish in the haze of euphoria. No encore, no fuss, just truth at full volume.
Cliffords are on the cusp of something big, they haven’t even recorded their debut album, and tonight felt like the spark is catching. They’ve already proved they can write the songs — now they’re proving they can own the stage too. Leeds got the full blast — and walked out knowing exactly why the hype is real.
Words and Photos: John Hayhurst
