Bleech 9:3 - Scala London - 16 May 26

Scala gig + EP review

Story by Chloe Liston

23/05/2026

Bleech 9:3 have been on a meteoric rise and they’ve earned every bit of that momentum. But with any take-off comes turbulence. Grab a pinch (or a pound) of salt, because I’m going to break down the magnitude of that effort using some extremely approximate figures: Since 2024, Bleech 9:3 have written and played at least 13 different songs, released 5 on an EP and starred in music videos for most of them. And in the 700-ish days since their formation, they’ve played a whopping 100+ shows, around 1 show a week. It’s one hell of a grind, and the response to them is not incidental, it’s an accumulation.

With their self-titled EP released the day before headlining at London’s Scala, there was pressure to impress. Fans queued early, already sporting merch (some official and some impressively homemade). Huge groups arrived, some having met at previous shows, others meeting for the first time through ‘Bleechers’ group chats. The atmosphere was friendly, if a little cliquey. The queue was abuzz with thoughts on the EP. The consensus was that every track (including those that remain unreleased) can already be heard via a wealth of online content by anyone who can be bothered to look. So official releases only cater to the mainstream. In what might be a throwback to sifting through cassettes at the HMV, fans are increasingly rejecting the algorithm and enjoying scavenging for underground and unreleased material themselves. They want the grind too. As a collection, the EP makes sense, each song has its peaks and fewer troughs. Instrumentally, it hints at their on-stage chaos, guitars clashing and ringing out in ways that feel more like a basement gig than a studio. But that’s often set against vocals that are much more controlled and restrained than their live renditions. Not bad by any means, but jarring and inauthentic-sounding in places. Jacky is perfect. It’s got a raw, punk energy with an intentional chaos that feels like it belongs on-stage. It makes you want to go to a show. Underrated is similar, but a little cleaner and less niche, making for an easier listen comparatively. With a familiar structure and baseline, it still sounds authentically underground, but you can picture hearing it on the radio. Cannonball and No Surprise are where that imbalance is most noticeable, particularly when compared to the live counterparts. Cannonball gets off to a slow start. For the last minute, heavy guitar drops are met and matched by the raw and emotive vocals, but then it’s over. Too much build-up and not enough payoff. No Surprise follows a similar pattern, starting softly and building up, but it peaks and dips more evenly throughout. It’s more satisfying structurally, but the mix feels thin and the vocals a little static. A shame for a track that should rival Ceiling, especially in terms of catchiness-of-chorus. Ceiling is perfectly placed at the finale, the fan favourite. Equal but opposite to Jacky, it doesn’t try to be a live punk track, but an anthem. It moves quickly from the understated intro into the main body of the song. It’s restrained when it needs to be and explosive when it wants to be. Calms before storms. I have two main gripes with the EP. The first, that it consistently leaves you wanting more (far preferable to overstaying its welcome), perhaps a by-product of the post-Vine, TikTok-era attention span. The tracks feel weighted toward the build-up, with too little payoff. The second is the energy of the recorded vocals. On stage, Barry Quinlan is constantly moving and belting notes. Here, he feels noticeably more static and restrained, like he should have done a few star jumps before stepping into the booth. Which makes one thing clear: this is a band that makes more sense on stage than on a record, so when the doors opened, the race for the front row was on.

The cliqueiness from the queue didn’t dissipate inside, if anything it hardened, causing a noticeable edge in the pit. Scala rarely has a barrier, but after Bleech had fans storming the stage during their Liverpool Sound City set its presence wasn’t surprising, but it was an indicator of the chaos to come. The crowd were buzzed, some groups squealing with delight that they’d managed to get a barrier or first-five-row spot. The support act, Theatre, benefitted from a crowd that was already up for it. The front(wo)man’s stage presence carried the set even as the vocals were drowned by the mix. The crowd were more encouraging than engaged, sympathetically bobbing along. They were good as far as I could tell, but I couldn’t tell much. That shifted instantly the moment Bleech 9:3 stepped onstage. Before the first note, Baz had already gestured for a circle pit and the crowd obliged. Then Jacky hit, mirroring the EP. With his foot against the barrier, Barry immediately demanded a face to face connection with fans. It’s electric, messy, fully uncontained and meant to be heard live. The pit went off immediately, and not always cleanly. With some people using the circle pit to nab a better spot, creating some animosity amongst the dedicated queuers. A few people got overwhelmed from the off (young looking, no doubt at one of their first gigs and unprepared for the brutality of it), needing to be pulled out early. The energy was undeniable. No Surprise and Cannonball landed with the same intensity. Fans screamed every word, moshing gave way to crowd-surfing. A single line of people braced between the pit and the barrier as things pressed forward. Much better placed on a stage than through headphones, the EP shrinks in comparison. There was some relief with Lowboy, gentler and less familiar, but every bit as strong giving the room a chance to reset as people tried to catch up rather than crash into each other. Soon Underrated brought things back up, before giving way to a run of unreleased tracks, each met with recognition. No drop-off, no hesitation. By the time they reached Ceiling, the room was heady - hot, crowded, constantly moving. Unlike Jacky, which has a live quality on the EP, Ceiling doesn’t mirror the record, but it’s a complimentary counterpart. It’s elevated on the stage. Like so many of their tracks, once the crescendo hit, it was over almost too quickly, leaving the crowd wanting more. Afterwards, fans lingered, trying to hold onto it. Outside, it felt strange leaving just past nine, a moshing matinee spilling into the street. These shows are unpredictable. Some nights it’s relentless pits and crowd-surfing, others lean into something more controlled, or even strangely still. The energy morphs and shifts, depending on the room, the crowd, the moment. You don’t know what you’re going to get. Bleech 9:3 are burning bright right now, let’s cross our fingers they don’t burn out.