- Independent UK Promoting

COG Review - 19/4/08 (Speed Circus/Once A Thief/Trailing Laces)

Club Night Review

Saturday 19^th April at the Metro, Oxford Street

Bands: Speed Circus, Once A Thief, Work, Trailing Laces

There are always exceptions to every rule. For example, they say every Irishman drinks. (Who are ‘they’? You tell me.) I don’t have any Irish friends, but one of my friends’ brothers is Irish, and he doesn’t drink. Admittedly he’s only seven and has already developed a hankering for Supermalt, but he still counts. They also say cats always land on their feet. I threw Mr. Muggles out of the window of a high-rise in Solihull and I can say for sure he did not land on his feet. Because I threw his feet out afterwards. I fucking hate cats.

But very rarely are there so many exceptions to rules in one place at one time as there were on an even better than usual Club COG night, this Saturday just gone. Take the first band, Trailing Laces. They play standard mid-tempo pop tracks. They repeat simple lyrics about 20 times in some of their songs. Their solos are about as complex as the Spice Girls are sexually attractive. Oh, and their bass player looks like Chad Kroeger from Nickelback. Bands like these are not just crap, they’re despised the world over.

And yet you’re left liking them in spite of yourself. Why? They represent everything a band shouldn’t be, and yet they lack any sort of pretentiousness. Their shy, nerdy demeanour and the genuine enthusiasm shown especially by their drummer compromise the judgements made on their clichéd appearance alone. There’s also a pity factor – the fact they look like they belong in their bedrooms and seem truly happy to be ‘living the dream’ on stage make them much more palatable – even likeable.

But mainly it’s their music that wins you over. The nice middle-eights and the predictable yet good quality riffs contribute to a sound of a band that, although young, have gelled well already and know what their rolls are. Trailing Laces are students of typical bands proffering standard fare, but the difference is that they’ve studied those bands well, and compose and execute their songs intelligently, and with an eye for a radio-friendly unit shifter. A very good opener.

But not an iota on the band that followed. The Work are a three piece with a piano player. That’s the same as Keane. Their vocalist looks like Jamie Cullum. They play repetitive artistic stuff with an air of seriousness. And yet people are not burning effigies of them in the streets. Why? Because, to put it simply, the Work are superb.

With lead singer Michael Perera on the keyboard to one side, the majority of the stage had to be filled with the animated presence of bass player David Harvey. He took to the task with pleasure, engaging and rapport building with the audience whilst drummer Martin Moore managed that rare thing of showing off his ability whilst refusing to compromise in making every hit of the snare or crash of the symbol compliment the song.

The Work were livelier than their excellent recordings on myspace, a little rougher also, but still kept to their tunefully downcast, melancholy core. They’re a band with gravitas, as if every note they played was deliberately engineered to grab your attention by men in white coats in secret government labs with unlimited funding. Oh yes, and they can also claim to have the best use of a rhythm block in a song since Queen of the Stone Age’s ‘Little Sister’. Like Placebo, the Work understand the pleasantness of a good riff being repeated without interruption and they understand not to overdo it.

All of their songs build up to roaring finishes that Coldplay couldn’t match, whilst Perera’s sometimes Get Cape Wear Cape Fly, sometimes Thom Yorke singing style gives them an integrity and an apparent thoughtfulness that affords them a lot more longevity than the majority of their peers. In a fleeting scene where bands are a dime-a-dozen, the Work slow things down, make you stop, turn around, relax, and be fully captivated. They are truly one of the best up-and-coming bands in recent memory.

The odds would be that whoever followed a terrific band on the ascent like the Work was not going to make an impression. But the form book has already been thrown out tonight, and it was picked up, brought back in and thrown out all over again (which was unnecessary, but sometimes people do unnecessary things just to make a point) when Once A Thief walked on.

The kind of band that would unite students and building workers in agreement, Once A Thief are exponents of an eclectic sound that encompasses a wide variety of influences, from older acts like the Jam, the Clash and the Kinks to modern London contemporaries Dogs and Dirty Pretty Things. All their varied songs are joined by two factors – the lead singer’s admittedly average but very flexible voice and fine musicianship, particularly the drumming by the ludicrously named Hitman, which was relentlessly powerful yet at times off-kilter and progressive.

The eclecticism may bring comments that they’re jack-of-all-trades but masters of none, and while some of their material sounds like the album tracks of better bands, Once A Thief still have the talent and quality to command their own place in this dressed-up brothel we call the indie music scene today. In particular their last three songs were of ‘hit single’ quality, particularly ‘Satellites’, a song with a chorus so catchy it makes you forget where you are, who you were with and what you were doing. I have vague recollections of pliers and burnt rabbit fur. Altogether an excellent outing by the Club COG regulars.

By the time Speed Circus came on, the place was absolutely packed. A four band line-up, and already three were quality. The rules state that at least one band has to be crap. Were Speed Circus going to adhere to the rules? No chance.

Speed Circus are a seven-piece consisting of London lads who look like they spell ‘boys’ with a z. And an i. There was massive anticipation for them – which lead to a huge reaction when they came on. The best way to describe them would be like an east end Coral, playing tunes your mates would dance to in pubs until it was time for a glassing. They take full advantage of their large numbers by layering the instruments beautifully without sounding like an orchestral mess. At all times they still managed to sound like a proper, direct indie band, albeit with a huge ska influence. It underlined their whole sound. At times they were like an urban Specials.

They’re also incredibly fun. Their songs are simple sing-along, yet great quality, numbers that are so catchy there is a fear they’ll be used to galvanise all the rude boys in the country, leading to some kind of ska/mod revolution where Terry Hall is made prime minister against his will.

Obviously, songs like ‘Dubwise’ and ‘Soldier On’ don’t exactly contain philosophical insight into world politics or the soul of man. Speed Circus sing about what they know, but they do it well.

Their music is always engaging and more adventurous than first perceived, with great use of harmonica, keyboards and cowbell, but even better was the liberal use of improvisational lead guitar. Essentially Speed Circus do for London what Arctic Monkeys do for Sheffield. Seriously. They beautifully reflect the cosmopolitan aspect of the city, with traditional culture blending into indie music with two-tone sensibilities.

But that’s not the best thing they do. What you’re guaranteed with Speed Circus is atmosphere. Amazing atmosphere. They already have such a large following that a sizeable chunk of the crowd were singing their choruses. It was like a party on stage, with everybody in the band smiling and joking as if they were jamming in their spare time. It was pure, unadulterated joy for them and this feeling spread out on to the crowd. It was no surprise there were shouts of ‘we want more’ at the end.

If there’s a band that would be described as ‘must see’ in the London scene, it’s Speed Circus. If you go to their myspace, remember you’re not getting a fraction of what they’re like live. Sensational stuff.

And so your lesson has been learnt. Always leave room for the exceptions. For example, a friend of mine works with paper, and yet I’m the one with a paper cut. I’m off to dress my wound and claim for disability benefit. Until next time…

Muhammad Odeh