Indie-poppers are equal parts blissed out and moody
A tale of two cities. King Tuts Wah Wah Hut, Glasgow (September 23)
The Arcade Fire comparisons aren’t unmerited, but they are a bit lazy; yes, there are seven of them, and yes, they swap instruments like kids swap football stickers, but their sound – a grand old Balkan knees-up as the world falls down around them – is all their own. ‘Wolves’ paints a grimly beautiful picture of the apocalypse, with bombs dropping and hearts stopping, while the propulsive desperation of ‘If Eilert Lovborg Wrote A Song, It Would Sound Like This’ (spot the Ibsen reference, literature fans!) reminds you they’re more than capable of rocking out, albeit in theirown unique and cliche-free way.
It’s the haunting march of closer ‘Slow Parade’, though, that cements their reputation as one of the country’s most exciting new bands. So gorgeous even endearingly sheepish frontman Jamie Sutherland’s rambling intro can’t detract from its majesty, you wish they’d thrown another trumpet solo or fiddle blaze into it, just to prolong the experience. “I hope you don’t think of us as being ‘Eastlanders’,” says a fumbling Jamie at one point. “We’re all Scottish, after all.” He’s right. And it’s good to know we’re in such rude musical health.
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