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COG Review - 5/2/10 (Pete & the Pirates/Airship/Lucy Rose)

Club Night Review

Friday 5^th February 2010 at the Lexington

Bands: Pete & the Pirates, Airship, Lucy Rose

Two thousand and ten years it’s been, since some beardy fella decided ‘that’s it, I’ve had enough with not being able to make appointments more than one solar year in advance. I propose a calendar to be created, and we’ll mark this moment the first day of Year Zero. Oh look, that kid was born as I was speaking. Should be a good omen.’

Little did that sandaled and sweaty man know that two thousand and ten years on, the activity du jour is to freeze apple juice in the shape of a thick pipe, drill a hole through the middle, fuck it, get your cock stuck in the ice, wedge the microwave door open, stick it in there to melt the ice, and die having just watched your cock explode. At least I hope that’s the activity du jour, because then my mate would be a trend-setter instead of just a tragic weirdo. If only he had something else to do on that fateful first Friday of the month. To prevent such tragic incidents from happening again, COG has decided to move from Saturdays to Fridays – too late for my friend (who shall remain nameless), but hopefully in time to save other experimental freaks.

The first club night of the year contained a showcase of the different variations indie pop has taken over the last half-decade. Starting the night was Lucy Rose. Looking about 15 years old and accompanied by a four-piece band, Rose sung simple, catchy folk-rock songs with the atmosphere of Lisa Hannigan, crossed with the pop sensibilities of Lily Allen (in the best possible way, of course). Her lack of pretension was refreshing, and her support was more than adequate, with the drummer shining as he provided a driving force on the livelier tracks.

Her vulnerability would cause most review writers to tilt their head, furrow their brows like Frodo did to Sam whenever he said something hopeful (hands up who’s seen it again recently – just me? Well fuck you, the simile’s still valid) and absolve little Lucy of all criticism. Unlike most review writers, I left my heart shredded on the pancake of a Chinese hermaphrodite cannibal in Helsinki. Deep in my chest is a tiny, angry, petty midget who keeps my body ticking purely through spite. As a result, I’ll say that while she’s a technically gifted singer, her voice is still not good enough to carry the weaker songs. There’s a feeling it’ll get there as she gets older, as well as an inclination her song writing will improve. The livelier, more twee songs like ‘Be Alright’ are great pop compositions, but she has yet to master the skill of the slow folk ballad. None of her songs are bad – she’s very listenable, but clearly not fulfilling her potential yet. A burgeoning talent for the future.

Next on were a group in the same collective of ambient Manchester bands as Delphic. Airship are a foursome with a less electronic bent than their more famous label mates, and they’re one of many bands that have discovered if you take a simple mid-tempo riff and repeat it endlessly you get an atmospheric effect. Now this isn’t a bad thing, just another technique that can be used well or not. With Airship, it’s a mixed bag. Sometimes the riffs are too simple and song structure too predictable for it to work well, other times their songs are overlong.

Once again, it seems easier for bands to compose faster tracks to a good quality. ‘Kids’ was their standout track, a lively pop outburst that, when replayed on their MySpace, was endlessly repeatable. And it is when you go through their MySpace playlist that you realise Airship are a little wasted in the impatient and expectant environment of a live indie setting, or maybe because in this particular venue the environment was a little less patient and a little more excited than most. They were waiting for Pete & the Pirates to come on.

Ah, Pete & the Pirates. Essentially, they’re akin to Rodney Trotter and Albert Steptoe spawning a happy love child that grows up listening to the Clash and decides to write songs. They’re a very English lad’s band, and they create pure indie-pop bliss. The packed partisan crowd went batshit mental over them, and they can’t be blamed. Their songs are lyrically and structurally simple, but without ever letting up on quality. They’re unpretentious, banter with a wink and a smile, give their all when performing, and create endlessly playable sing-along hits.

The number of market conscious bands out there, all sounding similar to each other, all gunning for that indie pop credibility while trying to make commercial music, is simply incredible. The indie scene is reaching saturation in terms of the number of acts, and even then, even with all this chaotic maelstrom of activity going on, with the hundreds of bands that are punk-inflected, that use humour and twee compositions, you can recognise one of Pete & the Pirates’ songs a mile off. That’s saying something. Songs like ‘Bright Lights’ and ‘My Understanding’ add even more solidity to the notion that commercial success is mainly about marketing and less about quality. If Pete & the Pirates were on Jools Holland, T4, etc, they’d be as successful as anyone, but they’re not, so they aren’t, and they’re not to blame.

With seasoned gig-goers, great moments come when bands have indefinable qualities. As a bitter and twisted individual, I loathe pretentious things like encores. Yet the Pirates exuded such an amiable personality that nobody begrudged them one. Now that’s saying a lot. A great COG night to kick off the new decade. I’m off to clean up a messy microwave. Might as well suck this apple juice up with a straw, no need for it to go to waste. Oh look, some mince. A little bloody, but I could use it for a spag bol. Until next time,

Muhammad Odeh