Editors @ Brixton

Christ it really is all about the World Cup these days, I wish people give over already. I don’t get football - supporting a team up and down some kind of league thing, buying their merch – going to see them play over and over again ... ...

So anyway, here we are at the second of Editors triumphant Brixton gigs – we first saw them play in the Garage way back in April 2005 don’tchaknow, then it twas in the Astoria, and now they've entererd the premier league, playing 3 sold out nights at the big momma academy!

The Eds come on stage looking confident enough, but they aint much for the small talk. Thankfully Tom has forgone the too tight grey/white/monochrome buttoned up shirt in favour of ummm... a baggy grey t-shirt - how casual of him. (Maybe Edith burned them? Maybe he’s put on a bit of ‘we can afford to eat now’ weight? Who knows?) This does not appear to affect his performance. He’s still an intense, tightly wound spring of nervous tics and twitches (not quite in the same league at BB Pete tho - and he doesn't use his guitar as a 'hat' either this time out).

Actually the only criticism we had was with the staging:- the sound was cack, especially at the beginning, the back drops were sparse, minimal and tacky looking, the piano looked like it had been rescued from a skip and the lights were pretty shoddy as well. (I get they're after dark brooding type atmosphere, cause they aren’t already living with that cliché, but really, how much for an extra few light bulbs?!) Tickets were £20ish – including extortionate booking fees – what’s with the cheapness?

Still, it’s a bloody good show and Editors are justifiably proud of themselves as they leave the stage. They even they do a fabbo cover of Talking Heads ‘Road to Nowhere’ as their penultimate song. Bring on the next album please; it’s bound to be a corker.

Tapes 'n Tapes @ Barfly

So we've come all this way (to sunny scummy Camden!!) to see Tapes 'n Tapes - North American buzz band du jour.


But first we get to lean against the bar, drink gin and have a chat. Oh yeah, and watch the support ...

Sister Flo should have been scando poptastic. From Finland? Organ used extensively? Hand claps? – Yep! Yes! and Lots! But did we hear any actual tunes? Nope, none at all I’m afraid. They look good on paper, hurt on my ears.

Next up are the The Delorentos. I’ve seen their sort before, flaunting their angular (sorry) guitar pop at the best toilet themed venues in London. They’re all 2nd hand rock 'n roll attitude, with some sharp jerky guitar action thrown in. These Irish chancers can just sling their catchy hooks back to Dublin. - Hang on a minute, is that MY foot that’s a tappin? Pants.

So far so Eurovision, but finally its the Tapes 'n Tapes - and they absolutely STORM it! Breaking guitar strings on opening track 'Just Drums' and shutting the yabbering gobs of all those annoying gig liggers stood chatting at the back of room.

The yelping, rocking Americana of the Tapes isn't following any dull British indie format, – they've a Harry Potter looky-likey drummer, who brings a light jazzy rat-a-tat-tat touch to many of the songs and in Josh Grier they've got a charismatic, unpretentious (GINGER! GINGER! GINGER!) singer/guitarist. The set does dip a bit in the middle, we’re unfamiliar with the material and some of the more random tunes do drag a bit, but the Tapes breeze through on charm alone.

Apparently they sound like Pavement, I was never very into the Pavement, unless you count me hugging it at the end of a drunken Friday night. But I suspect I'm liking the Tapes 'n Tapes for the same reasons I like other American indie - (The Shins, Modest Mouse, Bright Eyes or CYHSY) - and it’s not the dodgy vocals!

More please.

YYYeah's @ Kentish Town Forum

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs open with the anthemic pounding intro to ‘Gold Lion’ and Karen O struts out onto the stage … ...

So many charismatic front women get compared to Orzolek, it's almost become music journo shorthand for -'yells, shouts and waves her arms about a bit'. - But tonight we realise that those ladies only wish they could pull off this fantastically brazen display of bold theatrics.

From throwing spastic shapes in ‘Y Control’, to moving us with the Yeah's one and only love song, the beautiful as ever, ‘Maps’; Karen shines like a silver star (made of tinfoil!), but performs like a demented banshee. Meanwhile Brian Chase absolutely thunders behind his drums, driving the music ever forwards – part of the three pronged attack on our senses. (Zinner keeps to the shadows; we suspect he is a creature of darkness and sold his soul a lifetime ago. “take it away Nick” indeed.)

With the surplus of cracking choons its easy to forget how innovative and experimental the Yeahs can be. From the screams and yells of ‘Fever’ to the acoustic progression of ‘Bones’, the three headed Yeah Yeah Yeah beast challenges as much as it entertains and Fringey joins the rest of the fashionistas in the forum, dancing about 'till we get a bit sweaty.

Things get Pretty Dirty in the Astoria!

I loved the dirty pretty Libertines.

So I'm desperately trying to keep my expectations low for Carl Barats all new fetchingly filthy ensemble:

Dirty Pretty Things!

They come on stage to the adoring frenzied screams of the indie kids (in their uniforms of breton stripes and pork pie hats), and launch straight into ‘Deadwood’. Barat’s vocals are angry and harsh, and only occasionally slurred. Oh, he's taking this quite seriously isn't he, there’s no chit-chat, he just says thank you and introduces the next song. And fair do’s to the chap, he doesn’t even flinch when he gets a half pint of water flung at his face during ‘France’.

If Barat is a man on a mission, then the rest of the Dirty Things are there to have a bloody good time, (and I bet they can’t believe their luck!). Rossomando flings himself all over the stage, bouncing about with a tiggerish enthusiasm, while Gary is completely blissed out, drumming like a sweaty demon. Didz just looks grubby.

‘Gin and Milk’ and ‘You f**king love it’ are big chunky monkey anthems in waiting, while ‘B.U.R.M.A.’ has Fringey weak at the knees. But the biggest scream of the night is for ‘Death on the Stairs’. Its unfortunate that other songs from ‘Waterloo to Anywhere’ kinda blend into each other, in a big sub-libertines-soup. (a b-side broth if you will*) But they’re getting there, and the better tunes are songs you will fall in love with.

Finally, in true indie boy band stylee – they all get their tops off for a sweaty ‘I Get Along’ at the end.

(*I am the KING of alliteration.)

The Walkmen @ the Barfly

F*ck me, but the Walkmen are brilliant.

They were just too good for the tiny scummy Barfly and with their laid back New York cool they completely destroy Camden for us, ruining it for any future bands we might see here by setting an unattainable standard. They casually trample our hearts with a passionate, vicious, darkly urgent performance. The bastards.

There is a late start due to the organ being completely banjaxed – leading to lots of knob twidling and the twisting different coloured wires together, but still no dice. Not sure how much not having it changed the set list, there's no ‘Bows and Arrows’ or ‘What’s In It for me’. Boooooo!

But who cares when Leithauser’s intense, masculine vocals are so hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck terrifying. The rest of the Walkmen were just genius, swapping instruments and chewing gum, they look relaxed and not fussed, completely at odds with the sounds they are making. They end with a triumphant ‘Rat’; the Barfly looses its mind, we’re all going to be damned! .... ... Then they’re off stage and we’re left speechless in the aftermath.

No – not really, for they bounce back for a quick cover of Bill Haleys ‘Rock around the Clock’ – I’m not kidding.

It was the kind of electric performance that makes groupies of us all, with the ecstatic audience left milling about in a wash of euphoria. Am I overstating it a bit? Possibly but I was about 3 ft from the stage and had to literally pick my jaw up from the floor afterwards.

Sigh… …

Luce has a musical epiphany here: