Raw Power: The Amazing Snakeheads on Amphetamine Ballads

The Skinny is enjoying a Guinness and a chat in Glasgow’s Laurieston Bar with two of the three members of The Amazing Snakeheads, when it dawns on frontman Dale Barclay that someone is missing. He makes a brief phonecall to check on the whereabouts of bandmate William Coombe, thought to be currently en route to the pub in Bridge Street after finishing his day’s work. In fact, the bass player is sitting next door in the lounge. “He’s been there half an hour. I think he’s been making pals,” he grins.

The Laurieston is venerated among drinkers for its friendly atmosphere and unspoilt 1960s décor. But The Amazing Snakeheads prefer the bar for its proximity to their practice space, and, most importantly, the fact it offers a free jukebox. It would make the perfect place to unwind, except the trio are instead limbering up for a three-hour late night rehearsal, which they’ll begin as soon as this particular interview is dealt with.

The Snakeheads thrive after dark; their debut album, Amphetamine Ballads, is a raw collection of blues-punk and no-frills rock 'n’ roll songs about lust, vampires, playing in dark woods and coming alive at night time. “Some of them are stories, some of them aren’t,” is all Barclay will say on the matter. Reviews of their live shows regularly include terms like ‘frightening intensity.’ One critic breathlessly claimed that he found their stage presence overwhelming.

But away from guitars and amplifiers, the group – which comprises Glaswegians Barclay and Coombe and Kiwi drummer Jordan Hutchison – are relaxed and good natured company. Now relocated in the lounge bar, they exchange sharp one-liners at each other’s expense and talk animatedly about their love of performing and music in general. So why do some consider the band to be intense? "People can take whatever they want from our music," states Barclay. "There’s nowhere we’d rather be than on the stage. When it works – when everything clicks – and you get that feeling, it’s fucking powerful. That’s what music can do. What other people make of it, who fucking knows. If you dig it, great, if you don’t, that’s fine as well because we’re having a fucking whale of a time anyway."

"We always cite James Brown as a big influence," continues Hutchison. "It’s the way he comes across as an entertainer and a man. His brand of his intensity is what he did; our brand of intensity comes across as possibly a bit scary. People south of the border maybe mistake the accent and the intensity as scary, when really it’s just passion. But come see us after the show and we’ll be all cuddles and kisses."

"When it works – when everything clicks – and you get that feeling, it’s fucking powerful" – Dale Barclay

In a digital age in which new bands and producers routinely upload their earliest demos for public consumption, the Snakeheads opted for a different approach. They set out to build their reputation as a live act first and foremost, improving their skills as they went. Barclay was the only capable musician when the group began practising four years ago, while Coombe and Hutchison started from scratch. "We learned to be in a band together, just for us, just to have a bit of fun," explains Barclay. "We didn't have a fucking clue," laughs Coombe. "There was no plan; there was no sense of 'we must do this.' But you cannae underestimate the time and effort that we all put in. It didn’t just happen at the click of our fingers."

Barclay maintains that even as they slowly gained proficiency, their ambitions as a group remained modest. “The one thing we talked about was reaching a point when we could cut a bit of vinyl, like a 7" record. That was the extent of it; if we could get a 7" out somehow, we’d be fuckin happy with that. Next thing we know, fuckin Domino Records is knocking at the door.”

Barclay is exaggerating only slightly. There’s no denying the group went from playing gigs for friends and family to signing for the UK’s most successful independent record label of the past ten years in a remarkably short space of time. Having first entered a rehearsal studio in 2010, they were being scouted by Laurence Bell – the man who secured the signatures of both Franz Ferdinand and the Arctic Monkeys – in late 2012.  It seems like a good fit for both parties.

“Laurence wants to make good records, and so do we, that’s the extent of it,” nods Barlcay. “He just digs the music. We could tell. We have very good bullshit detectors; it’s a bullshit-free zone in our band. He gave us the opportunity to cut a record, and for that we’ll be eternally grateful. You’ve got to remember, Domino are a completely independent label, even though they are super massive huge now with Franz and Arctic Monkeys. We can pick up the phone and speak to Laurence directly. He still knows every band on that label.” That personal touch is clearly important to the group. “This is our first venture into doing something like this, so the fact he is so open and welcoming, it’s very comforting,” confirms Coombe.

Did they think they had struck gold when Domino confirmed they were interested? Coombe firmly shakes his head. “Not at all. Our attitude and mantra was that now that we might possibly have something, let’s work harder, faster stronger. In the grand scheme of things, we’ve done fuck all yet, absolutely nothing. We’ve released two singles, we now have an album that’s about to come out and could do something.” Hutchison is similarly adamant. “You don’t strike gold, you’ve got to work for that. Getting a deal isn’t the end game.”

Contract secured, the Snakeheads could now begin the potentially tricky task of committing to tape the live set that had won them so many admirers. Capturing a band’s energy on record can defeat even the most experienced producers, but Barclay insists he never had any worries, thanks in part to their choice of studio – Glasgow’s Green Door, a small recording complex in Finnieston – and quickly striking up a friendship with owners Emily MacLaren and Stuart Evans. It was the latter that provided the band with their album title. After watching one particularly full-on performance at the much-missed Captain’s Rest venue on Great Western Road, Evans remarked that it was amazing the group could perform ballads while seemingly high on amphetamines. “They are the just the greatest people to work with,” enthuses Barclay. “Green Door is just a completely creative environment. For us being novices, it’s conducive to making great music.”

The end result is an album that crackles with energy, with no song outliving its welcome, and Barclay’s howl retaining its spine-tingling quality. But it’s more than just a raw recording, instead being more textured than the group’s sparse live sound. “First and foremost, playing live will take care of itself,” explains Coombe. “We have total confidence in that. We could easily have just played and taped the three instruments, but we’re trying to make an album that would stand up. It’s how you want to project yourself without taking away the essence of what we’re all about.”

The band’s self-belief should not be mistaken for arrogance. Barclay and Coombe are both in their late 20s and have worked full-time since leaving school more than a decade before. Hutchison is in his early 30s, and has lived in Glasgow for almost a decade, having arrived from New Zealand for a wedding. Deciding he liked the city, he’s never left. In short, they might not be seasoned musical pros, but the trio still have a firm idea of who they are and what they want to achieve.

Coombe spells it out. “There’s no airs and graces with us, it’s just we began our band later in life and we’re a wee bit wiser. If I was a young boy I’d be going ‘gimme gimme gimme’ and rubbing my hands. Instead we’re clued up to what we want for us and what we believe in. That’s not a bad thing to know in life – in anything, not just music. If you’ve got a wee bit of a plan and a wee bit of confidence, what’s there to lose? Fuck all.”

It’s time for the Snakeheads to drain the remainder of their pints and head to their rehearsal studio. They have a busy year of touring ahead of them, with a month-long European jaunt beginning in late April and festival appearances in the summer. One in particular appeals to Coombe. “We’re playing at the Stockton Weekender. On the same line-up there’s Public Enemy, Martha & the Vandellas and the Happy Mondays… and The Amazing Snakeheads.” Barclay lights up at the prospect. “We’re going to get Matha Reeves to do backing vocals. Apparently she loves a pint of Guinness, does Martha.”