Blackbird Takes Flight

We sat down with local band Blackbird to hear their thoughts on everything from AI music to event managers, and Kate Nash.

Photography by Min Maddison

Photography by Min Maddison

How to describe Blackbird? Toss The Strokes, The Kooks, early days Arctic Monkeys, and perhaps a sprinkling of Britpop into the mixing bowl of a university campus, and you’ll be halfway to seeing the vision of this upcoming band. Built of four guitars, a drum kit, and five early twenty-somethings, you’ll be taking a trip to the peak 2000s indie rock scene during one of their gigs. 

 

THE BAND 

Although the band has frequently swapped members during their early history (think Pete Best being swapped for Ringo Starr but without all the melodrama), the boys are confident that this lineup will be the best so far. Through a chance meeting at their university’s music society, the final rendition had begun. “Even from the first jam session, it all clicked really well,” recalled bassist, March Marcal Whittles, who was the final addition to the Blackbird lineup. “There was a chemistry there immediately.” 

Starting out at Helch Market, lead guitarist, David Clapp, admitted it was a “humble gig,” with their lead vocalist Ewan MacBeath recalling that “it wasn’t the biggest venue, but it was quite busy, absolutely packed.” Not too shabby, considering that Oasis were third on the billing for their first gig, and not even mentioned on the local listing. But all the dreamers have to start somewhere, even if your city is less music-centric, like Bournemouth. 

So, what would Blackbird advise? First port of call is to make connections with other local bands and like-minded musicians. “Going to the open mics is where we found a lot of them. If we want to do a gig, we'll tell our mates from another band to come support us, and vice versa,” said Ewan, who covers lead vocals and rhythm guitar. Bournemouth also has the advantage of being a student town. “There's a lot more opportunities around uni. When uni ends there's less,” said David, perhaps apprehensive of what’s to come.  

Or you could take a chance on an event manager. “To start out, they're good. They sort out everything. But when you’re further along, you can contact the bar yourself, because then you get paid... sometimes. And, obviously, it's not all about the money. We go there to have fun.” Ewan said that with Bournemouth’s size, there comes the benefit of the same event managers being connected to multiple venues, in turn, building your network and local links.  

“Even from the first jam session, it all clicked really well. There was a chemistry there immediately."
March Marcal Whittles, Blackbird bassist

Photography by Tamzin Agus

Photography by Tamzin Agus

THE ISSUES 

“The problem is there's no funding for live performances anymore,” leans back Ewan, in his chair. “When pubs aren't making enough money, they're all having to close down, and we can't make any money by doing live gigs.” This seems to be a running problem for Blackbird, and for many artists that they are connected with across Bournemouth city. It's not finding musicians, instruments, or even time to play: it’s where to play. “Even 20 years ago, there was a lot more underground bands, because they were able to play in smaller venues.” By erasing spaces for new artists to thrive, a barrier has been raised across the path to performance.  

With 16% of grassroots venues closing post-COVID, the number of stages for musicians has shrunk significantly, having a huge impact on indie start-outs. With prices high for entry to live shows, the lack of guests isn’t equalling a lack of interest, but instead a response to the price tag. “I don't blame people for not coming to venues, but the pubs are going to see that, and think: okay, we're not making any money. So, they've either closed down, or they'll change where they’ll stop having bands there, full stop, and it's difficult.” Ewan nodded, consolidated by the hums of his bandmates who remain optimistic for change.  “Unless they make 10 times the profit in the pub that you're playing at, which they're not going to, there's no point to getting the band in.” 

Despite this, the boys remained hopeful, keeping faith that the charm of live music would continue to shine. “I think there's something about what you get from seeing a band live that's a whole other level,” chimed in March.  

At the rise of AI music, the band collectively frowned. Who can blame them? “The point of music is to share creativity. People make it together,” shared David. "The songs people connect with are made with emotion, feelings. I don't think AI can make that.” Creativity is a human activity, irreplicable, especially in the music industry, yet has been devalued with the cheap efficiency of AI. From album covers to virtual singers, AI has snuck into many aspects of the music industry- an industry built on the passions of young artists. 

And it's not only small creators taking a hit recently, bigger stars are getting stung too. Ewan cited recent struggles by singer-songwriter Kate Nash, who turned a loss in 2024, only to be financially revived by Glastonbury in summer 2025. “If people who already have chart songs - if they're struggling to make money doing gigs - how is everyone else gonna make any sort of money?” Hopping in, David shared the financial struggles of Spotify in recent years. Their low payments for artists have dropped to an industry guide estimation of $3,000 per million streams (with caveats of yearly minimum listens, disqualifying smaller artists). Rory Neville, Blackbird’s guitarist, suggested free online downloads as a reason for bands having monetary difficulties, and the decline in physical media, such as records, which have made a quiet comeback in 2025, signalling some hope for the future.  

Photography by Tamzin Agus

Photography by Tamzin Agus