Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
Six By Seven: London Highbury Garage
They're one of those unfortunate bands who become more interesting the more cursed they are by bad luck...
All of which, predictably, leaves Six By Seven more pissed off than ever. "I'll just plaster on a fake smile and plough through this shit one more time," announces Chris Olley, the band's gangling and grumpy guitarist. The way they attack these songs, however - the furious mantra of 'Something Wild', 'Eat Junk Become Junk''s righteous, distorted juddering - proves they're one of those unfortunate bands who become more interesting the more cursed they are by bad luck.
There's a cruel pleasure in seeing how a stuttering career (the Garage, though sold out, is their smallest London show for a couple of years) serves to invigorate already thwarted and twisted men. Guitarist Doggen doesn't appear to be a permanent member of Six By Seven (he's part of the Julian Cope/Spiritualized entourage, as is sax player Ray Dickaty), but he's plainly taken on the band's collective rancour like a veteran.
And as the bruised sarcasm of 'Overnight Success' grinds away and Olley slams his guitar into the stage, the awful truth about Six By Seven solidifies: you don't want them to succeed - not out of indie preciousness, but for their own good. Failure doesn't just become them, it fuels them.
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