Klaxons: Metro, London: Monday, March 4
Time to dust off your glowsticks and make some noise
And there I was thinking the only people who ever liked hardcore rave were me, John Peel and Leeroy, the one-toothed crystal meth dealer from down the road. No, turns out every bugger’s into it right now, and if you don’t believe me check out indie ravers Klaxons.
Now listen: I used to have a dream. In that dream I fronted a punk band who were influenced not by (yawn) The Beatles or (snooze) The Clash but by Altern-8, early Prodigy and all the mad smiley rave anthems they used to play in warehouses in Milton Keynes. Klaxons are basically that dream come to life, only not quite as good (I’m not in them). They are, however, about 1billion and 67 times more exciting than all those bands trying to rip off Arctic Monkeys by singing in bad Sheffield accents.
They have amazing songs like ‘Atlantis To Interzone’. They tear through amphet-dusted covers of comedy rave track ‘The Bouncer’. And they play like armed-to-the-nads, punk-fuelled bastards. Still, the Klaxons experience is as much about the fans as it is about the music: down the front we’re all going ape-shit and crashing into each other, wondering just how four guys have turned one of the most unhip musical genres in the history of ever into the most vital sound around. WHISTLE POSSE! LET ME HEAR YOU MAKE SOME NOISE!