Recalling the kind of toe-tapping immediacy that rampaged through the veins of early Futureheads releases, Leeds-based four-piece Wintermute’s debut single bridges the chasm-divided demographics of indie-pop and post-punk excellently; a little brittle, a little Good Shoes deep down, a little old-school emo, ‘Gambling or Playing Cards?’ twitches and itches like the best discerning floor-filler should.
While it’s unlikely to set its makers apart as true revolutionaries within a scene bursting with creative kids toting jerky guitars, this seven-inch not only comprises a favourable foundation from which to build a career of acclaim commercial and critical, but also reinforces the fact that some of this country’s very best ‘rock’ music – to use the loosest possible term – is coming from rather further north than Camden. No longer should A&Rs be sweating overpriced and watered-down lager out of their systems in the Barfly: hop aboard a train and get to the Brudenell, guys. If this lot had come together a la a capital-spawned Bloc Party they’d be in Steve Lamacq’s ears already.
“Are we even on the same page?” question our protagonists as drums erupt behind their exasperated cries; not just yet replies the public_ en masse_, but time’s on Wintermute’s side. With a couple more thumbs-up standalones like this they’re sure to be tickling the fancies of alternative playlist compilers the nation over before long. You, sir, may sweat that lager, but these boys bleed potential.
8Mike Diver's Score