Frank and the beats headlines Deaf institute

October 2025

Do you know Frank from Frank and the Beats?

I still remember the first time I saw him, trying out his songs around Manchester open mic nights two years ago. Just him and his guitar filled the space in such a wild way that it almost surprised me when, months later, he said he would be playing his first gig with a band. ‘With a band? Are you starting a band? But you already sound like one on your own. How could that even be?’

The main room at the Deaf Institute is full; people are talking, but they are attentive to what’s happening on stage. The four members of this wonderful team walk out, led by Frank Oldham, elegantly dressed in a black suit jacket and trousers, his characteristic voluminous curly hair framing him. The theatre is open, and they take a moment to plug in and connect their instruments. From the very first second, Frank’s voice breathes fire. His groove floods the room and makes us all surrender to his honest, direct rock rhythms. Deep lyrics and catchy choruses have us humming along in unison from the first song to the last.

They open the show with their latest track available on Spotify, “The Day I Met Davinci”, a small gem. They follow with “Shot the Cameras”, a smooth, rhythmic track (the first single they released exactly a year ago on streaming platforms), and continue with “Make a Difference”, still unreleased. The opening is relaxed, led by a swaggy, danceable guitar line, marked by a slow, almost reggae-like cadence that stretches out the wait for the poetry, before the rhythm accelerates for minutes and ends in an explosion. The lyrics touch on suburban themes and deeply personal moments of self-improvement. Together they ride in perfect unison and complete connection. They don’t need to look at each other: the beats complete the figure for this born and bred in Nottingham that moved from Bristol to Manchester looking for a dream that is coming true.

When they hit “Another Day and Night”, they turn serious and sharply professional. Frank thanks the rest of the band for being there, the audience for attending, and the venue for giving them this opportunity. Their first headline show is a special moment in a short but already stratospheric trajectory. They play “Through the Night”. Every song has that je ne sais quoi, a sweet kind of sexy that melts on your lips, a call to keep dancing and humming along. The drummer has already taken off his jacket. The bassist keeps dancing in his small corner of the stage, and John, the guitarist, overflows with guitar solos in every song. Frank’s hair starts to lose volume, his face deforms in intensity, and his voice never stops transmitting passion.

With warmth and complicity, they offer those of us who know them an unreleased song, “Where We Come From”, as reflective as the others and with powerful instrumentation. Their influences move somewhere between Dylan and Fontaines D.C. Surf rhythms and jaggedly beautiful riffs emerge: “Never forget where we come from”… Goosebumps rise all over me as I take in Frank’s energy—a sincere shout accompanied by a band that falls silent in unison, only to explode again as the whole room breaks into dance.

They joke among themselves while adjusting their strings. Another unreleased song follows, “Sorry for Coming”. Nathan is sweating at the back, and Frank’s thick hair is starting to melt down his face.

Hours of rehearsal bear the fruit of impeccable connection. Frank has that magic that reminds me of a Beatle—his outfit, his movements. He breaks into steps of a contagious dance. Past the halfway point of the set, the crowd is fully in: girls dancing at the back, friends studying his movements, fans in constant motion. Lyrics of revolution that make us raise our arms and howl. He sweats and puts the guitar down. Alone at the microphone, his sex appeal rises; his movements and rage intensify, and his eyes roll white. He turns elegantly, picks up the guitar again, and prepares for what comes next.

“Life Will Be the Death for Me”, “Lullaby”: tempos one after another, intensifying their connection even further (if that was even possible), with near-rage written across his face. Frank’s former quiff is now completely stuck to his skin, fully melted away. John rips through the strings at the end of the song, sending off a soft howl.

Once again, they thank the Deaf Institute for the opportunity. I can’t sense even a trace of nervousness in them during this deliberate adventure. It feels like they were born for this: a band completed almost by magic, with Dan joining after Frank met him the day after their first bassist left, just before what was meant to be their first show at Off the Square—which Frank ended up performing solo.

They thank the audience for being there and supporting them—friends and musical adventurers who have enjoyed every second of this fleeting moment. The ending is true to their style: apotheosic, stretched out, intense. Drum solo and guitar solos. “Be Careful What You Wish For” is a wild finale that closes the band’s first headline show in this iconic Manchester building. The boys hug each other, as they almost always do, smiling. Outside, the rain hits hard, but our hearts are warm after such a magnificent night.

It just seems amazing to me how quick and mature these lads have grown and settled into the music scene around, starting gigging outside the city. After just a year now that their first single was released, the guys keep on getting better on the stage if it was even possible.

I am afraid we are not gonna be able to see them this close for much longer before they start hitting bigger stages. Just go catch them while you can.