Tuesday 02/11/10 James Yuill, Silver Columns @ The Ruby Lounge, Manchester

Silver Columns play ‘Warm Welcome’ third and argue that maybe they should have played it first, but tonight that seems just fine. As the Moshi Moshi co-headlining tour with James Yuill arrives in Manchester, the label’s prevalent attitude of  off beat, alt-pop sounds presents itself as a co-piloted underdog flying through the bowels of the industry’s general monotony. Silver Columns are a perfect case in point: a sweary pairing of post rock/electronica artist Adem Ilhan and The Pictish Trail’s Johnny Lynch basically having a riot even though tonight they reside behind a bar/stage set up of samplers and synths that at best resembles a £3 Argos plastic pine, bedecked with twinkling fairy lights in disarray.

Ilhan, truth be told, is fairly unassuming, only really springing into life when the falsetto calls for it, his voice pitch shifting as he hollers into dual microphones that never stray too far from his mouth, or, during set closer ‘Columns’, when he runs into the crowd smashing a snare drum. Lynch, meanwhile, is a frothing deadpan drawl, goading the crowd to come closer, telling tales and bringing a nice low level counterpoint to the band’s generally high register. That they sound like Hot Chip is probably true, but mostly in the sense the likes of ‘Heart Murmurs’ or ‘Way Out’ feel organic, regardless of the fact the band barely touch an instrument that doesn’t blink. A sweet mix of Balearic and ballad, ‘Warm Welcome’ envisages what Junior Boys’ come down might feel like if they supplemented it with a batch of Earl Grey, whilst ’Brow Beaten’, though battered and bruised by the restrictions of playing live, still emit’s a gently hypnotic disco vibe.

If the 80’s infused synth pop Silver Columns ply might have bought a bit of disco to tonight’s proceedings, James Yuill’s mad scientist aesthetic and towering electronics brings it quickly crashing back to the future. An overstretched early ‘Crying For Hollywood’ and ‘No Pins Allowed’ aside, Yuill soon finds his feet, black tie pulled tight to white nape, crashing through ‘On Your Own’ on his own, looping voice’s together with the flick of a finger between the times they’re not thrashing his guitar.

That he’s been known to do separate acoustic and electronic shows tells a little tonight, at times the set feels fragmented as Yuill shifts from one instrument to another, but when he merges the two the results mesmerise. “Here’s a heavy one” he says, launching into ‘My Fears’’ melancholic, hissing machinations, before projecting paradise hued visions of his keyboard’s treatment during ‘First In Line’, like some sort of retro futurist account manager finally living the dream. An encore of ‘Over The Hills’ lilting acoustic daydreams and then a sprawling beat heavy dance number doesn’t settle the argument about which side of the Folktronica tag Yuill’s sometimes labelled with suits him best, but rather poses the question: when he can do both so well, who cares anyway?