On Tuesday we saw three bands. They were all good.
Letters are the night’s revelation. Perfectly poised, if not a little too studied in their nonchalance, their music sounds like the dour brilliance of Interpol meeting the pretty romanticism of The Stills for some slow, icy dancing. So pretty much like Elefant then (those thinking “Who?!†should go seek the New Yorker’s debut ‘Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid’, it’s ace). For a band whose name lends itself so well to cheap puns, this is first class stuff.
We last saw The Hot Puppies supporting The Feeling back at the end of last year. While the latter are fast on their way to becoming one of this year’s biggest bands, The Hot Puppies are still being largely over-looked. This is even though they have: better songs than The Long Blondes, guitars that tug at us like Television as produced by Phil Spector, and, like all the greatest Motown tracks, the unerring ability to make being hurt by love sound like the loveliest thing ever. “How come you don’t love me?†pleads Becky Newman at the edge of the stage, looking amazing in a green cocktail dress (vintage, we presume). It’s a line that pretty much sums up The Hot Puppies; they make us feel almost guilty for having a girlfriend. Such is their utter magnificence.
Wrexham’s Crosbi are a polarising sledgehammer to the notion that the ‘indie’ aesthetic circa 1995 (a time when denim, Ocean Colour Scene and lyrics un-bothered by notions of poetry or subtlety dominated) is dead. Their music is almost regressively visceral and founded on a love for the guitar, the riff, the not altogether mistaken belief that ‘Definitely Maybe’ will be a textbook for new bands generations down the line. Despite the pugilistic stance adopted by frontman Andy Jones, and the Muppet-like exuberance of bongo/keyboard player Simon Jones, the best Crosbi songs are those that don’t spend their brief three minutes hitting you with everything they have, but those that step back, that prove there’s a soul beating in amongst the swagger: namely ‘Hope You Remember’ and the Welsh Arcade Fire-lite (seriously) almost-yodelling ‘Helayou’. It’s a shame there’s no time for album stand-out ‘Glassman’, but everyone Gigwise speaks to after the gig is won over and talking in hyperbolic adjectives. This still doesn’t rehabilitate Ocean Colour Scene by the way. It just means Crosbi are very good indeed.
