Hinds @ Summerhall, Edinburgh, 16 Aug
The Madrid four-piece play at double speed with seemingly endless energy, and a delighted, beer-soaked crowd do all they can to keep up
Hinds are dynamite – an explosion of noise and total joy, silly jokes and even sillier moves. Their 2016 debut Leave Me Alone is a record of three-minute-long, DIY punk bangers, and in a live setting each hit feels like it lasts just 90 seconds. The Madrid four-piece play at double speed with seemingly endless energy, and a delighted, beer-soaked crowd do all they can to keep up.
Providing a necessary calm before the storm, Plastic Animals are a perfectly pitched support. The Edinburgh locals open with an unhurried, instrumental minute, and take plenty of time building up precise layers of accomplished, atmospheric post-punk. A song is dedicated to Diane, the elusive secretary from Twin Peaks, and the final track Floating is a surging, shimmering haze, cut through by a satisfyingly harsh guitar. Then, after they’ve given a shout-out to NEHH’s dedication to booking local bands, it’s time to dance.
Hot Chocolate’s You Sexy Thing blares through the speakers and there’s a surge to the front – partly because the Dissection Room’s filled up, but mostly because everyone wants to be at the heart of the party, and that’s wherever Hinds happen to be. The band gathers round the drum kit, and spin, on cue, to perform sloppily choreographed moves to single Garden. Carlotta Cosials and Ana Perrote share vocals, grins and lead guitar duties, and the energy between them radiates heat. Incredibly relaxed by comparison, bassist Ade Martin bobs around, sheltered by a stupidly large bucket hat. Drummer Amber Grimbergen holds the chaos together; her drums are a linchpin for a gig that feels like it could fall apart – but only because everyone’s having too much fun.
That’s Hinds’ trick, though. They’re perfect party hosts, and this is tightly controlled chaos. Cosials quietens the over-excited audience as she introduces a new song: “Ssssh! We are all in this together! We still have to practice, so use your imagination, and when it’s over, you clap like hell.” Summerhall’s crowd hangs on her every word, and follows those instructions to the letter. There’s just time for a fake encore (“We’re liars!” shouts Perrote, gleefully) before the night wraps up with a riotous version of fan-favourite Davey Crockett.
Sack off the comedy and dig out your trainers; NEHH’s got plenty more sweaty, subversive gigs to come.