The Fat Angel Sings

At the start of 2014, when their fanbase numbered 200 people in Stockport, counting their mums, and their instrumentation included a decrepit Hammond organ purchased for £5, Blossoms decided to announce their presence to the wider world.

“We want to be heard by everyone,” began a missive on their website. “James Stewart’s rabbit Harvey, Echo and the Bunnymen, Frank from Donnie Darko, at school discos, office parties, on the radio … everywhere. We want to be as mainstream as Will Smith, as great as the Smiths and as uplifting as Mr Smith Goes to Washington.”

“It was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but we like all those things and, deep down, we meant it,” explains their 22-year-old singer, Tom Ogden. “The funny thing is, making that statement was a turning point. We all quit our jobs and went on tour.”

Two years on, Blossoms are the biggest noise to come out of Greater Manchester in many years. They have won the approval of Johnny Marr and Ian Brown and, last October, long before there was any sign of a debut album, they sold out the city’s 2,000-capacity Ritz. Their four terrific EPs trace their hurtling development from black turtleneck-wearing psychedelicists to purveyors of chart-bound lysergic pop with big electro riffs and disco basslines, culminating in their forthcoming single At Most a Kiss.

Their rise goes against the current grain. The quintet were the only guitar-based band to feature in the influential BBC Sound of 2016 shortlist and one of only two of the longlist’s 15 acts (along with Ripon’s Billie Marten) to come from north of Oxford.

“There’s something sad about that,” Ogden says, but he soon sees the more romantic flipside. “On the other hand, we rehearse in a scaffolding yard, freezing our bollocks off and yet we’ve ended up on the BBC poll. That’s mad, but there is a beauty in it.”

The same could be said of their backstory: a mixture of underdog triumph and determined pop romance. Where Brown and John Squire of the Stone Roses famously met in a sandpit as toddlers, Blossoms were all born in the same hospital, Stockport’s Stepping Hill. Ogden met 23-year-old drummer Joe Donovan when they were 13, on a school trip to Alton Towers. Bassist Charlie Salt, 24, and guitarist Josh Dewhurst, 21, entered the same orbit through school and teenage parties in the town. After gravitating together via missteps in other bands, they completed the jigsaw with 21-year-old keyboard player Myles Kellock.

“He had a broken wrist and couldn’t play keyboards,” Donovan says, laughing. “He’d been a drummer, so he sort of hit them.”

Every rejection spurred them on. “For ages, it was like what Decca once told the Beatles: ‘Guitar bands are finished,’” Ogden says. “You just think: ‘Right, we’ll write even better songs.’” Their cramped room in Salt’s grandfather’s scaffolding yard gave them a place to do just that, as well as somewhere to rehearse for free, every day. “We made the video for the first single in there for £60,” Ogden says, pointing to the darkened warehouse.

Their ascent was marked by a series of small triumphs – playing to 30 people in Guildford, then selling out Manchester’s Castle pub. “That was the first time people came whom we didn’t know,” says Ogden. “It felt exciting.” Then, much later, came festivals, such as Reading and T in the Park. “That was bouncing. It felt like we were their band.”

There were more “pinch yourself” moments – one was meeting Marr in the Arndale centre in Manchester. “He was fantastic,” Ogden says. “He said: ‘You’re Blossoms, aren’t you?’ It turned out he’s a fan of ours and came to see us at the Academy.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jIjuUPNtC4

When Donovan met the Smiths drummer Mike Joyce at a Manchester City game, they ended up swapping numbers. Another time, Ogden was surprised to be tapped on the shoulder by Brown. “I said: ‘Hello. I’m Tom from Blossoms.’ He said: ‘I know, mate. That’s why I’m talking to you.’ I was speechless, and then I met Mani. I realised they were just normal, and had done it from nothing just like we have. Ian said that Charlemagne was the best thing we’ve done so far. To hear one of your heroes say something like that is just …” He tails off.

The Blossoms sound mixes psychedelia with pop songwriting, 80s pop and Chic, but is definitely their own. The songs began to flow after the end of a relationship Ogden was in and, like Morrissey – a huge influence – he peppers his lyrics with cultural references. Blown Rose quotes the 19th-century Irish poet Felicia Hemans (“The stately homes of England,/How beautiful they stand”), while Madeleine refers to a character in Hitchcock’s Vertigo.

If Blossoms make it as big as their heroes, they plan to help their hometown: to reopen the legendary Strawberry Studios, where 10cc, Joy Division, the Smiths, the Stone Roses and Paul McCartney all recorded, and they would like to help the town’s football team, Stockport County.

The next time I see the band, they are supporting the Libertines at Manchester Arena and don’t seem out of place on the big stage.

“I felt quite comfortable up there,” Ogden says. “I thought: ‘This is what we want.’” Backstage, there is a whisper of another grand ambition for the band: a set of new street signs for their hometown, reading: “Welcome to Stockport. Home of Blossoms.”

• The At Most A Kiss EP is released on 18 February on Virgin EMI/Universal. The band tour the UK throughout February and March.