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Glasgow King Tut's Wah Wah Hut

Mostly, though, the [B]28[/B]'s' tunes are a one-themed paean to working-class teenagedom, as witnessed in the semi-irresistible, semi-irksome [B]'We're Going Out'[/B] which the [a]NME[/a] lens-smi

Comedy. It's the, er, old rock'n'roll. And Younger Younger 28's make no secret of their intentions with yesteryear's comic repertoire; their central live character Joe Northern dresses straight outta Help The Aged in suit, quiff'n'sideys '50s stylee, swings a huge, red, rocker's guitar below his lunging Elvis pelvis, sounds exactly like Robbie Williams' dad and has the wit and good grace to describe himself, visually, as "a mentally handicapped Rupert The Bear".



Thus, you want the very best for 'the new Human League' 'cos, you know, the spirit is sound; camp-pop cavalcades, up for the lark, dressing like a kipper and finding a bigger, wiggier way of life. To Joe's left, keyboard/electronics whizz GI Jimmy D, lovely maroon suit, specs with no glass in, body of a Thunderbird puppet (actual size), performing the classic, static, one-finger synth non-action. On the right, harmonising duo Andie and Liz, who grin hugely and sing supremely - willowsome coves in perfect, hand-wigglin' synchronicity, jocular knees springing in and out to the disco-synth confection they're all calling council block pop.



This, then, is the cartoon-reality caper currently dividing a nation straight along the all-important cusp of brilliant/bollocks. And this is their debut full-set cabaret showcase, some of which is a perv-pop duel between Joe and The Girls in which a dubious, "He's had sex with us and is quite the git" lark is acted out, with songs such as 'Two Timer' whereby The Girls howl, "You're crap in bed! You're crap in bed!" to which Joe replies, "Cheers" and makes gonzoid gurning faces.



Mostly, though, the 28's' tunes are a one-themed paean to working-class teenagedom, as witnessed in the semi-irresistible, semi-irksome 'We're Going Out' which the NME lens-smith likens, quite rightly, to the theme tune to Are You Being Served? ("Going up!" etc). They're fairly perky, disco-thrilled songs which celebrate the not particularly new or jocular joke of being born in the gutter, pretending to be a star, having rubbish sex and falling in a bin on Malibu and Coke in what amounts, in actual fact, to an old bloke's, '70s idea of what being young is all about.



Proper pop stars (apart from Bros) don't sing about being proper pop stars, they simply become them. Younger Younger 28's are pretenders pretending to pretend which is too much pretence to ever be truly, er, true; far less Elvis, in actual fact, much more Tommy Cooper fronting the Grange Hill Bike Shed Band pretending to be Aqua doing The Human League's karaoke classics on Mike Flowers' Pops Cabaret Compendium on Channel 5 (from Wigan Pier). Enjoy them while they're here if you fancy a larf you won't particularly remember in the morning, a band who wish, fabulously, in the post-postmodern way, to become your first ever teenage love, but are, sadly, merely the modest knee-trembler of teenage-sex-pop; there'll be another one along in a week. Suddenly, Gay Dad really are the new Pink Floyd.

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