Live ▼
beach house Concorde 2, Brighton 25.11.2010 By Nathan Westley ▼
Simian Mobile Disco. Pic: Sebastian Matthes / manox.net
Interpol. Pic: Lee Goldup
From being hardly known in January, Baltimore’s Beach House have quickly risen to become critically praised broadsheet darlings by year end.This transition has seen the central pairing of Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally unexpectedly caught by surprise, and tonight they are almost embarrassingly thankful towards the audience for attending this performance, which largely takes from their third album ‘Teen Dream’ – an album that has connected unlike any of their previous and now comfortably rests in amongst the higher echelons of many of this years best album lists.Transposed to a live environment, elegant dream pop songs such as ‘Norway’ and ‘Zebra’ do not loose any of their immediate tenderness, the understated performance, which sees them accompanied onstage by a trio of colour changing triangular shapes, is perfectly refrained and compliments their shoe-gaze inspired melodies. On one hand, tonight’s performance is lacklustre, void of real presence and blatant onstage charisma. On the other Beach House have no need to be full blown. Sometimes it’s better to take the foot off the pedal and let the songs glide by in a controlled, delicate manner. Tonight is one of those times.
Plug The Nest, Dalston, London 01.12.2010 By Stuart Stubbs ▼
Tamaryn. Pic: Elinor Jones
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www.loudandquiet.com
While Plug have always been an impressively patient punk duo in terms of their notoriety, preferring to let people stumble across them rather than self-promoting via Myspace and other social networks, it seems that they’re more hurried in their song writing. Tonight they play just two songs from their recently released debut album, which, considering the Slits-y delivered hip hop highlights of that record, is something of a shame.Two of the new tracks particularly suggest that Plug have galloped on with good cause,
though. One sounds as close to a disco hit – and as far from their drums and bass punk genesis – as this band are likely to get; the other sounds like a the theme to Beverly Hills Cop. Hip Hop influences once replaced Plug’s skeletal guitar sound; now it seems they’re enamoured with dance music and the occasional ravey breakdown that begs for a tenminute remix. And ultimately it works – enough at least for us to not care that Georgie Nettell is no longer playing the bass guitar with her hands and keyboards simultaneously with her feet, which was always the neatest of party tricks at Plug’s early, nonhip-hop, non-dance performances.
Interpol Brixton Academy, London 07.12.2010 By DK Goldstein ▼
To et lThick waves of blue-lit smoke ripple over the austere silhouettes of Interpol while Daniel Kessler’s striking strippedback guitar – which, four albums down the line has become synonymous with the New York foursome – breaks through the fog.Behind the band looms what looks like a set of huge metal panpipes, adding to the daunting atmosphere, but the thousandsstrong crowd don’t notice; too absorbed in the baritone drone from Paul Banks, their eyes fixed on the stage as the grave-toned outfit pummel through the oddly catchy ‘C’mere’. Interpol fans aren’t exactly a rowdy crowd, but for this slightly up-tempo corker they try their hands at some light pogoing. Suited and booted in their dark outfits, Interpol look severe as they run mechanically through the Pixies-leaning riffs of ‘Rest My Chemistry’ and jittery newy ‘Summer Well’, but the little smiles betrayed by Banks and his crew at the end of each song keep the mood on the right side of airy. The band race through ‘Say Hello to the Angels’ at double time, which again gets people moving, even if a little confused, before finally answering the climactic cries for the chart-topping ‘Evil’ during the encore.What Interpol seem to lack in stage presence, they more than make up for in unequivocally slick skill.
Trophy Wife XOYO, Old Street, London 08.12.2010 By Ian Roebuck ▼
Arguably the blandest bilge to emerge from Oxford’s speckled collective the Blessing Force (musicians that include Fixers and Chad Valley),Trophy Wife are steadily turning heads with their meticulous future-pop. Disco with details is a palatable prospect on record but would their fey nature translate on stage? An initial sugar rush,Trophy Wife’s polished musical talent sprays a Mr Sheen shine over the start of the gig. Effortless melodies delivered with a commercial wink pepper the surprisingly busy venue but it’s devoid of any personality. Only the frantic drummer provides real presence, stood tall and hysterical throughout, his dancing bringing un-intended visceral humour to an otherwise static show. Like a light jog, little flutters the heart as each song segues into the next. A level of decency remains though, and Trophy Wife can still write a killer – ‘Microlite’ dances off the stage with sparkling vibrancy. Still, it’s easy to see them propping up the bar of mediocrity for some time if they don’t find variation to add to their delicate glow.The band themselves admit to playing ‘ambitionless office disco’ and you can imagine them sound-tracking your boss’ drive to work or filtering out of the tinny radio for the fifth time in a day.
Caribou The Warehouse Project, Manchester 20.10.2010 By Reef Younis ▼
In the kind of logjam typically experienced at festivals, the majority of the WHP was spent futilely trying to free arms, desperately trying to maintain balance and buffeting against angry, tousle-haired little nuisances who blindly, insistently and repeatedly barged their way through invisible space. But it wasn’t overcrowding – as always the WHP organisation was largely impeccable – that undermined most of tonight, it was the unfamiliar, sullen air of impatience that characterised the majority of the crowd. Rising