LIVE REVIEW: COUNTRY CALLING 2026 - THE CAFFE NERO STAGE - BLANID

For Country Calling 2026, the Caffe Nero stage was curated by the good folks at TALENTBANQ. If you had done nothing else but walk the short distance from the entrance to the Caffe Nero stage and parked yourself in a seat for the whole festival, you'd have been royally entertained with an array of top talent.

Many of the names were familiar to #TEAMw21 but the chance of seeing a new name and using the opportunity for an early sit down, we nestled down to catch a bit of the set from Blanid, In truth she had somewhat lured us in like a siren, as we had caught her soundcheck vocals on the morning breeze and decided that the source of this sound needed to be tracked down.

As with all Irish names, assume that it is pronounced nothing like how it is spelt, although helpfully Blanid ( pronounced Blon-id), cleared this up in her introduction. Her opener "Dead Men Dancing" owed its origins to the film Airplane 2!, Blanid would play the refrain of the song as she relayed the introduction. The comedy film link was by no means a link into a comedic record for Blanid had spotted tragedy among the laughs. Played as a waltz, Blanid's vocals had a certain folky Irish lilt to them, that at the same time possessed an almost operatic quality. It would prove to be a curious and most enigmatic sound.

While performing Blanid would remain eerily still, just occasionally letting a wry smile cross her lips. Her second song "Tourists", about how we are all transient in the scheme of things, was a bold concept to lay on an early morning audience, yet as her voice soared one minute then plunged the depths the next you could not help but be captivated, we would also bear witness to some of the lightest use of a stomp pedal ever, more of a gentle tap pedal.

The subject matter did not lighten with "Deliver Me" about wanting to get away and praying to an unknown force. It would make for the most ethereal way to start the day as once more Blanid, voice seemed to soar to new heights with the most minimum of effort. In a break from the earlier songs she would step back and smile on completion.

Upping the pace a little with "Good Fruits", although still with only a judicious gentle tap of her foot, this addressed not quite being where you want to be. Once more Blanid weaved an aural web in which the listener remained transfixed

"Why the hell can't I appreciate what I've got?"

A change in sound came with "Fools Gold" about unrequited love, where additional electronica added a background element to the overall sound. The song would close to Blanid oohing in the most pure high pitched voice you could imagine, which drew great applause.

Our time with Blanid would close with "Fu** You Friend" not because we were easily offended, but our presence was required elsewhere. Dealing with a friendship break up, rather than a romantic one - the line "I hope you get all you deserve" was never sing so sweetly while sounding so cutting.