Deadletter: Beauty in Chaos at Gijón Sound Festival
Last night, Deadletter , the South London sextet infused with Yorkshire grit , stormed the stage at the Gijón Sound Festival, unleashing their refreshing sonic fury.
The atmosphere changed instantly: bass, drums, and guitars carved out sharp, angular riffs. The band exuded a confident swagger, their presence both edgy and electric, bordering on surreal:
This performance, the first gig of their 2025 Tour felt like we were witnessing the start of a new chapter in the bands journey.
Deadletter's aesthetic is as piercing as their sound—onstage, they presented a nonchalant chaos, an art-punk tableau that hinted at the beautiful disorder of their performance. As the show progressed, this image burst into life. The six members moved with an instinctual unity, led by childhood friends Alfie Husband (Drums), George Ullyott (Bass), and Zac Lawrence (vocals); with the authority and experience of a gang on a mission that started busking back in Yorkshire years ago.
They owned the staged, locking into a performance that compelled our attention, where every note carried a hint of menace and mischief. One moment you were engrossed by the rhythm, the next, you were gripped by lyrics that compelled you to pause and reflect.
Deadletter proudly display their influences, only to tear them apart. The jagged bite of Gang of Four’s guitar and the quirky art-funk of Talking Heads coexist in their music. The fury of The Fall meets frontman Zac Lawrence’s sneer, reminiscent of Mark E. Smith, colliding with the wry spoken-word snarl reminiscent of a young John Cooper Clarke.
Although their lineage is clear, Deadletter is no mere tribute act. They melt these influences to forge something entirely novel. And their musical cocktail only grows more potent. At times, a brooding bassline might evoke the smoky ambiance of Massive Attack or the noir swing of Morphine; at others, a dissonant drone slips in like a daydream by Spacemen 3. Abrupt rhythmic shifts and anarchic yells recall the chaos of Ol’ Dirty Bastard, and suddenly, a guitar riff strikes with the revolutionary urgency of The Clash. This is a sonic collage of past decades' rebels—all distilled into a gripping sound that feels piercingly contemporary.
Lyrically, Deadletter plunges into the depths of the human condition, unafraid to traverse the darker sides of existence—the grit and grime of modern life—yet they manage to uncover beauty within this chaos. Their songs confront hypocrisy and anxiety, the absurdities of our era, with words that are spat, spoken, and sometimes crooned, always with passion. There’s poetry in their madness, echoing Leonard Cohen’s melancholy soul, with a strange optimism that glimmers through the gloom. Hope emerges from disorder—Deadletter makes it seem not just possible, but inevitable.
In the tumult of the pit, you might catch a line or two about humanity’s struggles, fostering a sense of kinship and catharsis. We are all part of this beautiful mess. Their live show is raw; stage lighting slices through the smoke in stark reds and whites, creating pure, Kubrick-esque drama.
By the time Deadletter played their final note the consensus amongst us was clear, their live performance is VERY SOLID. This Band has come a long way already, and has a defined vision and consistent long term plan.
From what we saw yesterday it seems that Deadletter’s time is just beginning. They are a proper band that can do great studio work, but are even better on stage; which is why -in our opinion- they could be at the dawn of something significant.
Last night in Gijón, we saw six young , yet mature, musicians that are here to disrupt the status quo, and they have made clear that we are all invited to join the chaos.
In short, if you ask me if you should buy tickets and make you way to one of their gigs this year, my answers is:
