++GIG REVIEW++
Don Blandford finds himself in the middle of a literally cold war, as machine-gunning rockers and psycho kittens clash in a chilly Soho basement. Who will win? Who will freeze? Find out here...
No, it isn’t about Electrelane fans looking for love - the Too Pure Singles Club is just the rather snazzy way Too Pure promotes new releases. Madame Jo Jo’s menu tonight offers a beggars banquet of bands all keen to plug their latest single.
Everyone here tonight is literally chilled out; the air-con is far too efficient. Silke Steidinger, meanwhile, would simply be cool anywhere. She leads KAPUTT straight into ‘Dishes’ and it’s suddenly 1980 all over again. Several Interpol influenced songs later, and the Organ-esque ‘Family Tree’ machine-guns it's way through the basement... while I wish I'd brought a jumper.
Next up it’s Big Weekend gatecrashers IT HUGS BACK. On record they're an attractive proposition, yet here they’re struggling to get heard over the hubbub at the bar.
Seems like vocalist Matthew is cursed with the soul of an old shoegazer and can’t break out of his introspective ways. Their Yo La Tengo flourishes are all very nice, but it's a shy and gutless performance a long way from the favourable Sonic Youth comparisons they’ve earned. Maybe they’re just too nice.
After the quiet comes the storm - THE OCTOPUS PROJECT. At first, a few blokes wander the stage in freshly pressed shirts and neatly knotted ties. A woman with a keyboard joins them. Then they begin to hang fairy lights and sheets. And now they’ve built two towering cat-like figures from the lights and linen... oh dear, it's Ku Klux Kitties!
They’re finally ready, but my senses aren’t. It’s an ear-bleeding assault from the manic Mormon-like fellas, occasionally relieved by Yvonne Lambert’s keyboard interventions. Nothing prepared me for this! They announce that this is the first time they’ve played in London then launch into the guitar attack of ‘Tuxedo Hat’. The bass alone could cut through concrete.
This is the way out of the nuclear shelter Kaputt constructed earlier tonight. There’s a film projecting images of trains on to the drummer. It’s the mutant Mew! The shirts adopt epileptic mannerisms, their guitars mesmerise and they make more noise. Texan terrorpop has beaten the chill.
ALL PHOTOGRAPHY BY THE BRILLIANT SALLY SAVEALL
++ Don Blandford ++
Artrocker rating: 3
The newest sounds as heard in the Artrocker Office and our Resonance FM podcast.
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