Friday 16/11/07 UNKLE @ The Roundhouse, Camden

Thanks to their stellar third album, ‘War Stories’, anticipating tonight’s sell out gig at the hallowed surroundings of The Roundhouse I was filled with so much excitement that I perhaps naively believed the gig could emulate those dizzying peaks back when DJ Shadow was still with the band. And from the offset things are looking good. Arriving onstage amidst an almost trademark haze of lighting before launching headstrong into the wall of sound that is album opener ‘Chemistry’, it’s an onslaught on the senses and suggests that UNKLE may indeed be a live force to be reckoned with. Not even a sound glitch in the middle of a searing ‘Hold My Hand’ knocks the ever hoodied and sunglasses bedecked James Lavelle and co. from their stride, despite being thrown into near silence for a good minute. 

But shortly after a startling poignant rendition of ‘Reign’ (inevitably sans Ian Brown), some cracks start to show. Songs like the powerful ‘Burn My Shadow’ and ‘Key To The Kingdom’, which really should be dirge-tastic beasts in this cavernous room fall flat and disappoint. Devoid of audience interaction, with James Lavelle ever the miserable bastard switching between instruments and stage front, apart from the theatrics of their guitarist (very much the spit of a young Dave Grohl), dry ice (naturally) and the vaguely engaging visuals (not a patch on The Chems) there’s very little to get your teeth into. We’re even denied any guest appearances of note – okay it may be a little too much to expect Thom Yorke, Josh Homme or the Monkey Man himself to tread the boards, but surely a quick Leila Moss showing to bolster a lifeless ‘May Day’ wouldn’t go amiss?

Fortunately, they do rescue things slightly as the set reaches its finale. Their defining moment, ‘In A State’, is dispatched with heart and poignancy shortly before the encore, while ‘Rabbit In Your Headlights’ sounds as haunting and soul-wrenching as it does on record. Yet, walking out to the bitterly cold Camden streets with some punters voicing their distain and others (perhaps fortunate enough to get their hands on a bag of disco biscuits) eagerly chomping the night away, you’re left feeling that UNKLE are a mixed bag that despite their rock tinged sounds of ‘War Stories’, still don’t quite know what they are or where they are going.