CLEOPATRICK treat Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms to a night of raw, edgy grunge, played with ear busting passion.

After almost 2 years of gig starvation, the sold out Rescue Rooms feels like it’s about to explode. Singer/guitarist Luke Gruntz (best name ever) lights the touch paper by shouting at the crowd to “Come on!”, with the gig hungry crowd bursting into a moshing frenzy.

And if you couldn’t quite hear Luke’s lyrics under the wall of sound, the audience were there to help. A young woman behind me screamed every line, of every song, word for word. And she wasn’t alone. This is a band that commands total devotion.

It’s also clear CLEOPATRICK wont be playing this size venue for long. Bigger things are in store. Last time I saw a group that had the same buzz in this venue was The Killers.

Luke is also way cooler than anyone who wears their guitar that high has any right to be. Joined by the thundering, relentless drums of childhood friend Ian Fraser, it’s hard to believe there’s only two of them making all that sweet noise.

At one point, between songs, the crowd opened up and formed a perfectly orchestrated circle. What followed wasn’t an exhausted fan being stretchered out, but a perfectly formed mosh implosion when hit ‘The Drake’ was played.

CLEOPATRICK play an almost soulful brand of DIY, thrashed out to a wall of feedback & distortion. An instrumental break even brought to mind the likes of Hendrix, as Luke displays complete sonic mastery of his craft.

The shadow of covid lingers, when Luke apologises for not hanging out after the gig – a luxury the pre-stardom Killers could afford the crowd at the same venue. As Luke explained, it was to not put the tour at risk. On the day restrictions where announced due to Omicron, it was an almost eerie reminder of the challenges that still face the music industry. But for a short moment, all that was forgotten, and there was only CLEOPATRICK.

RATING: 1000 sonic highwaymen charging through your brain