New bands of my acquaintance

How would you know it was a blog review without a blurry picture taken from the back of the room?

I’ve been to two ace gigs in the past few weeks, braving the weather conditions to see bands live instead of following my natural inclination to sit in bed and listen to the CD (yes, I live in the early 00s).

First up was Slow Club, supported by First Aid Kit. I’ve seen the former before at the ICA before it began to exist under a cloud of cancellation and it was brilliantly fun. The band comprises a girl, Rebecca, on drums and a boy, Charles, on guitar and lyrical themes that are half heartfelt if twee and half rather silly; the silliness is enhanced by the adorableness of Rebecca who proves the exception to the rule that bands should never talk.

I really do want to start a petition on this topic. I think bands feel pressure to provide a show and to make chat in between songs. I suggest an industry-wide standard of: “hi everyone, thanks for having us. We are *band name*.” Then they play their songs and leave with a smile.

Anyhoo, no excruciatingly drawn-out descriptions of the meanings of songs from Rebecca, who even made completely effing up most of the songs cute.

First Aid Kit are from Sweden but I’m not going to hold it against them until I actually meet them and find out if they are mean about Finnish people or not. I got the band’s CD for my birthday and they have slightly pipped Slow Club in the race to my affections. I don’t mind a bit of twee but this is a bit more melancholy and the harmonies are SPOT ON even live, which is hugely important to me. Fleet Foxes were deleted from the Acceptable part of my mental filing cabinet after a shocking gig that I actually had to leave because the harmonies were so atrocious they hurt my ears.

First Aid Kit and Slow Club = Slaid Cit/Flow Klub

A highlight of the evening was the two bands coming together for a quick duet. A lowlight was seeing security pounce on a guy passing out hand-copied flyers for his night; a bit harsh considering we were standing in the Relentless Garage watching bands on the HMV tour. It wouldn’t hurt to let one guy give out a few flyers to promote his small endeavour.

A different sort of fun was had at tUnE-YarDs. I agree, having differently cased letters in the same word makes the originator look like a serial killer. So without having heard anything of the band before I went, I was expecting it to be thrash metal or something, but I was relieved to discover it was much more looped ukeleles and incredible yodelling by frontlady Merrill. This is the opposite from what happened at Yo La Tengo, where, going by the name alone, I expected it to be some kind of samba music and was brutally disappointed when it turned out to be shoegaze and also the longest gig in history.

I am sparing you my blurry snaps this time because as the officially least hardcore person in the world I flee for the back of the room when things get too loud.

Myspace-listed influences for tUnE-YarDs are Woodie Guthrie, Woodie Guthrie and Woodie Guthrie. Fine company! It’s not too literal though: the music feels a bit more African-influenced than a straight-forward US folk pastiche. Listen to Hatari.

I’d strongly encourage you to see this band live as I find the songs on Myspace a bit lacklustre in comparison to the totally blow-you-away live performance. In particular, Merill has one of the best voices I think I’ve ever heard, and a big, boisterous personality that fills up the venue and keeps you going even when you’re outside in the snow.