Gigs like this make me smile. I had never seen Dirty Whites before, I only knew they were a punk band. As befits good punk it was not always clear what the songs are actually called, though they seem to kick off rather helpfully with, “We are Dirty Whites.”
Lead vocalist Neil O’Donnell has a frightening stage presence. It is genuinely unclear whether he is physically and mentally up to the task in hand. He ambles on, disorientated and his eyes roll back in his head as he launches, manically into one thunderous vocal after another.
Through the Oi! Punk of Billy Boy, Nine Lives and British Bulldog (I’m guessing here) Neil disrobes and projects with such a force that you feel he will soon burst out of the confines of his skin and bones. Then as one song abruptly ends, he smiles as if to say, “It’s OK, it’s only me, Little Neil, everything is fine.” Then he’s off again, limbs totally independent of each other, no longer in control of himself. The man is clearly possessed by demons.
The effort takes everything out of him and it is no surprise. He is fronting a rockin’ good band. These are no three-cord ponies. Guitar, bass, drums and Hammond organ are tightness itself through complex (by punk standards) riffing and rock-a-billy rhythms.
Mini classic Ray Gun is the penultimate number and we are nearly safe once more. By the end Neil’s even managed to dress himself again. As he falls off the back of the stage as the set closes I can’t help thinking, “I saw this guy play at someone’s wedding last year.”
Jamie Walters
Find out more about the dirty whites @ www.dirtywhites.com.