Thank: the Leeds band who revel in playing “squats and anarchist communes”
This year, Thank have played gigs both big and small – from Manchester’s prestigious Albert Hall in support of Yard Act to the sweaty DIY venue Wharf Chambers, a staple Leeds grassroots space. The band are intrinsic to the Leeds music scene, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find a local band that doesn’t sing Thank’s praises.
The band embody a sound that is quite like nothing else, merging noisy instrumentation and witty lyricism, with lead vocalist Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe moving between singing, shouting, speaking and screaming. There’s much fun to be found in Thank’s music, particularly when you catch Vinehill-Cliffe comically singing lines like, “Oh sweetheart, can we dismantle capitalism another day? I’m tired, and dinner’s getting cold”. Yet, their dedication to creating interesting sounds, whether that be abrasive, nightmare-inducing instrumental breakdowns or bizarre synth outbursts, assert Thank as one of the most fascinating and unique guitar bands of recent years.
Talking to Vinehill-Cliffe in Kirkstall’s cosy Cardigan Arms, we discussed moshing, 6 Music dads, being labelled a noise rock outfit, and the band’s songwriting process, which is interminably linked to their roots playing in DIY venues. With many vital venues facing closure across the country (Leeds’ own Sheaf St being a very recent example), Vinehill-Cliffe expressed the importance of their existence, not only for giving bands a chance to practise, perform and build a following but also in helping to shape their sound.
The band’s first full-length record, 2022’s Thoughtless Cruelty, was written during the height of Covid-19 when gigs were a mere pipedream. Thus, unable to test out their material in a live setting, some tracks proved much harder to execute successfully in front of an audience due to the complexity of the instrumentals.
Now that the band is working on record number two, they’ve been influenced by playing in small venues such as Wharf Chambers, where dedicated, welcoming audiences allow them to experiment freely. There’s an innately communal feel to Thank gigs, with Vinehill-Cliffe communicating freely with the audience and his bandmates, often engaging in humorous dialogue with drummer Steve Myles. The warmth that Thank brings to the stage is a rare sight these days, and they seem truly at home performing in DIY spaces.
Vinehill-Cliffe asserts that “those kinds of venues are such a part of our DNA as a band,” as well as “punk music as a whole”. While he “would never want to abandon that kind of circuit completely,” with “some of the very best gigs we’ve played” having taken place in squats and anarchist communes, Vinehill-Cliffe is not averse to playing shows of a larger scale.
Thank are constantly evolving, allowing lineup changes and different stage sizes to shape them rather than hinder their development. Having formed about seven and a half years ago, Thank have witnessed a vast array of crowds throughout their time as a band, with some bringing huge mosh pits and others giving little more than respectable foot tapping.
While the band’s sound is hard to pin down to one genre, they are certainly not a doom metal band, yet they found themselves playing a festival catering to the genre earlier this year: Doomlines. Much to Vinehill-Cliffe’s delight, the crowd was “throwing down”, with some people really “kicking some ass in the pit”.
He added: “It’s always nice to have those kinds of unexpected reactions, where you’re expecting to maybe not get a strong reaction, and everyone actually kicks off. That’s amazing.”
This led to a discussion about moshing, which can often veer into aggressive, masculine territory, subsequently creating an atmosphere that feels far from inclusive. “It’s not something that I take personally if people aren’t moshing,” Vinehill-Cliffe explained. In turn, the singer has found himself somewhat disillusioned with the noise rock label often assigned to the band, finding that the genre’s ethos does not necessarily align with the politics of Thank. “I do feel like sometimes noise rock, as a scene, can be – it isn’t always – but it can have a tendency to be very macho,” he said, adding that many noise rock bands are “not particularly progressive politically” and often “consciously apolitical”.
He continued: “I don’t necessarily think there’s anything wrong with that. I don’t like the idea that every song has to be [overtly political]. I think all music, on some level, is inherently political. There are political dimensions being played out in the crowd at any gig…even where people feel comfortable standing in a gig space”. Vinehill-Cliffe believes that “you can be into something and express that physically without disrespecting other people’s space”. The singer hopes that Thank foster a safe space for the audience, one where people are “respecting each other and looking out for each other”.
On a slightly lighter note, Vinehill-Cliffe revealed the influences that lie at the heart of Thank, such as leftfield comedians like Stewart Lee, Sean Morley, Alan Partridge, Tim and Eric, and Vic and Bob. For the singer Alexi Sayle’s “Ullo John! Gotta New Motor?’ and ‘Dr Martens Boots’ have massively influenced his approach to blending humour into his lyrics, as well as poet and humourist Ivor Cutler.
A more surprising point of reference is the Twitter user @dril, the popular comedy account which has been running since 2008. “There’s even been a couple of songs on Thoughtless Cruelty that directly quote a tweet of his,” Vinehill-Cliffe revealed. Most of Vinehill-Cliffe’s influences possess a distinctively British sense of humour, and although he believes that Thank seems to translate well with international audiences, “It’s nice to have a sense of identity.”
He added: “I’ve always been very adamant about singing in my own accent.”
In fact, Thank have penned a song about the lack of Northern or slightly older bands given exposure by the mainstream music press. ‘Dread’ sees Vinehill-Cliffe wittily quip, “You know, there’s never been a good band from London/ And there’s never been a good band below the age of 25.” While the lyrics are “tongue-in-cheek”, Vinehill-Cliffe explained how the song was his attempt at “trying to express frustration at how focused the music press is on London and young bands,” often ignoring artists who don’t fit this preconceived mould.
Subsequently, he highlighted some of his favourite bands from up north, predominantly based in Leeds. Vinehill-Cliffe recommended Nape Neck, English Teacher (who he thinks are “amazing”), Meadow Meadow, Static Caravan, Pest Control, Wormboys, Carpet, Crake, Volk Soup, Pop Vulture, and Belk, calling the latter “the most exciting thing to happen to the Leeds music scene” in the past few years.
Still, Thank have been championed by several popular outlets, such as BBC Radio 6, where they were heralded by Steve Lamacq. Paired with their Yard Act support slot, over the past year, the band have gained more fans that fall into the ‘6 Music dad’ category, a term used to describe middle-aged, typically middle-class men who avidly attend post-punk gigs and buy the T-shirts, particularly by the likes of bands such as Idles.
Stating that the band’s rise in popularity has “definitely drawn a particular type of guy” to some of their gigs, Vinehill-Cliffe argued that despite the “negative trope” assigned to these men, in actuality, they help keep bands afloat by buying merch and gig tickets. “They’re enthusiastic. They help bands to keep touring.”
He continued: “The only thing I wouldn’t want to happen is, I wouldn’t like it to become so dominated by those guys that it becomes too much of a macho environment.”
At the core of Thank’s music is a desire to unite everyone through a shared indulgence in both humour and despair. Vinehill-Cliffe’s lyrics might touch on self-loathing and hopelessness, but he does so with a hearty dose of wit that feels perfectly antidotal. For now, Thank are continuing to work on new music to be released next year, which can only mean one thing – more live shows. Hopefully, a mixture of DIY venue dwellers and 6Music Dads will unite to take in the comical cynicism offered by (as their pin badges state) ‘The Rock Band Thank From Leeds’.
