- Independent UK Promoting

COG Review - 5/7/08 (Slow Club/My Sad Captains/Tigers that Talked)

Club Night Review

Saturday 5^th July at the Metro, Oxford Street

Bands: Slow Club, My Sad Captains, Tigers That Talked

You know what? Things change baby. Day turns into night, trees wither into hollow stumps, hills erode into valleys, and Linkin Park become a boundary-pushing, critically acclaimed progressive metal band that shun the limelight in favour of purely artistic rewards. Ok some things don’t change, and this includes Club COG, always at the Metro on the first and third Saturdays of the month, and always promoting the best underground indie music in the land.

On this Saturday just gone there were three bands instead of the usual four, but they made up in quality what they lacked in numbers. It’s unusual for this to happen, but the first band on were actually the best. Tigers That Talked have been around for several years now. They were on the cusp of superstardom, coveted by three major labels and steered by the same manager of huge acts like Oasis and Kylie. But art and money don’t often complement one another. After being told they had to change their style in order to get their break, they rejected the deals, parted ways with their management and have been floating around the edges of the indie pop elite for some time now.

Such integrity is rare and should be commended, and by equal measure the labels should be castigated for such a horrendously poor and confusing decision. Because they seem to think people wouldn’t enjoy Sigur Ros mixed with Arcade Fire. They think people would shirk at beautiful, haunting and atmospheric Radiohead-style songs that transform into catchy yet sophisticated indie reminiscent of Interpol. They’re horribly wrong.

The Leeds four-piece consist of a lead singer who looks like Paul Scholes if he was a Nirvana fan and has a voice all his own. It sounds a little like Thom Yorke if he’d had his vocal chords replaced with Joel Pott’s from Athlete, then developed Downs. But in a good way. They also have very competent musicians on bass and drums, and a violinist by the name of Glenna who adds an old world romance to their slow-paced indie musings. Their music is akin to whale song in its meditative, relaxing beauty – at least at the beginning. A few of them build up or change dramatically to catchy indie numbers that would grace the track lists of the best albums in the last five years.

Songs like ‘Artificial Clouds’ and ‘Weapon’ are fantastic compositions by natural talents that have to be experienced live. Their myspace recordings make them sound considerably more conventional. It just sounds like quiet indie in the Snow Patrol/Keane (although considerably better) mould, but live there is a feeling of music through intuition rather than technical apprenticeship or imitation. They are organic and beautiful.

Too often when a novel or classical instrument is utilised in indie music, it’s basic, gimmicky stuff played by musicians barely competent enough to be called amateurs. With Tigers That Talked, the violin is an important part of their sound, developing through each song rather than sounding like a contrived afterthought. As mentioned earlier, there’s an element of a stripped-down Arcade Fire to them, but one that allows each instrument it’s time to shine throughout the set.

They greatly impressed a packed crowd, finishing with the excellent ‘Holy Saturday Gloomy Sunday’ and leaving them wanting more. They didn’t even have a weak song. The one and only criticism would be that they sound a little self-indulgent, but even this is a welcome trait compared to the deliberately played down ego-mania of most bands. They’re fancy-Dan musicians and they want you to know. Tigers That Talked: indulgent, intelligent, immense.

And there were still two great bands left. My Sad Captains were the sleeper act of the evening, but were very good indeed. Essentially they’re Cathy from Fanfarlo’s side project, but unlike most side projects they’re probably better than their more famous colleagues. They are the archetypal indie pop band, oozing harmonic vocals, tuneful melodies and sing-along happiness.

They have two modes; sweet and sickly sweet, but their songs are so catchy and their demeanour so low key and welcoming it’s easy to get caught up in the mood they bring. They’re basically the Magic Numbers with Lou Reed. The singer’s voice is so uncannily similar to the former heroin junkie Yank you’d be forgiven for thinking they’re a ‘Stars In Their Eyes’ audition band, and that’s no bad thing. In fact it’s a very good thing, adding some personality to the hooky tracks. Without his voice they’d be just another, albeit very good, orthodox synth-based indie group, but as the Gadsdens and many other up-and-coming bands prove, all you need is one star quality. If the rest of the band merely complements that quality then you can’t lose, and My Sad Captains definitely fit into the ‘win’ category.

They played an excellent set, with songs like ‘Great Expectations’ and current single ‘All Hat and No Plans’ proving there’s still more left to be sucked out of indie pop’s wrinkled teat. Every song they have has an air of familiarity to it. This is either through skilful blending of standard tunes, riffs and song structures that meld into instantly recognisable yet unique and new stuff, or even more skilful thievery, either of which has to be admired.

And then Slow Club came on, to rapturous applause by a packed, hardcore set of fans. A scrawny Oliver Twist looking northern lad with a rosy-cheeked girl in a summery dress, they resembled Rosie & Jim: The University Years and played the kind of music that belongs on a canal boat. With an acoustic guitar for him and a standing drum kit for her, they sung simple but effective folk songs. With dulcet tones and whimsical lyrics, they have just the right mix of oddity and accessibility to make it big.

Rebecca’s (for ‘twas the girl’s name) drumming certainly livened up the set without compromising the folk style of the music, instead embellishing it with a Country & Western locomotive vibe. She also played a song on the guitar by herself which was personal singer/songwriter fare of the top draw. There’s an obvious star quality to them both. They have excellent voices, stage presence and fantastic chemistry together. In the last song ‘Trophy Room’ she stopped midway because her feet were hurting and she couldn’t be arsed anymore. This provided a good laugh for everyone and was a great touch if planned.

They garnered a huge reaction and it’s obvious to see they’re going places. They have an arresting ability to calm things down to a still, even in a packed room. With songs like ‘Because We’re Dead’ and the joyous yet melancholy ‘Apples and Pairs’, they’re ideal for Sunday afternoons in the garden. They’re an excellent, very memorable act. Almost as memorable as the first time a bank manager rolls his head back, inhales deeply, and starts cackling insanely, eyes wide and mouth open at your loan request. I’m off to kill a bank manager. Not a specific one, mind. Any one will do. Until next time,

Muhammad Odeh