Thursday 14/04/05 Sons and Daughters, Idlewild @ Shepherds Bush Empire, London

If Sons and Daughters were writers, they’d be outselling Grimm. Still, if their dark folktales were confined to books you wouldn’t get the pulsating thrill that backs ‘Broken Bones’ or the heathen whine of ‘Johnny Cash’ that sends you fleeing back to your mother. All this while, the writhing harpy that is Adele Bethel alternately purrs and spits love and nightmares into the audience as the rest of the band's members look on impassively. Standing dwarfed by the stage, Sons and Daughters’s authentica Celt-a-billy stories send a shiver of winter through your soul, although that could just be the Empire’s over-active air-conditioning. Keep your eyes on this band, something magical's happening.

Since 2003’s wonderful 'The Remote Part', Idlewild have been slapped down for apparently turning into REM. The smooth, bland opening to tonight’s set doesn’t hold much hope of changing that attitude. Roddy Woomble shuffles around like a grunge Patrick Swayze, singing his wildly lovely lyrics as if they embarrass him, while the flabby, dad-rock of the ‘Warnings / Promises’ output stands uneasily with the delight that greets anything from 2003 backwards. By the time they’re churning out a dirge-like instrumental worthy of The Doors, Woomble rocking slowly by the side of the stage, there’s a feeling of complete bewilderment among the audience.