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Last seen by this reviewer criminally languishing midway down a dodgy Lomax bill headlined by Swedish Guns n' Roses impersonators Cherry Corvette (or something equally ridiculous), it appears Former Miss America have gone all dark, moody and serious on us. Sparse clanking beats and bleeps layered with swathes of synth evoke 'Pretty Hate Machine' Nine Inch Nails, as FMA seem to be moving in a distinctly different direction to their more lo-fi country mood that previously made them such a unique and different prospect. But thankfully, it appears that this is just FMA eclectically broadening their horizons as the remainder of the technically blighted set takes in the music for a movie that's yet to be made (a must for all bedroom Electro boffins) and that slacker Americana which makes a warm appearance mid set. Rounded off with a unique take on ZZ Top's 'Sharp Dressed Man' FMA, despite their rather earnest po-faced approach tonight, FMA continue to be one to watch.
Equal parts baffling and astounding, since their appearance at the Masque's Anti Jubilee shindig, an enigma only usually reserved for the Deltasonic roster has built up around Ambulance. A curious mix of geeky indie cool and Californian cult worshiper's in appearance, over the next arresting stop/start 30 minutes Ambulance successfully succeed in compounding the myth and never letting you get too close to what they're really all about. Schizophrenically pilfering the last 40 years of pop history, taking in the Beach Boys, Dylan, Suicide, Beck, Spacemen 3 and Primal Scream, when, after considerable shuffling around, tuning up and frantic "yup, it's your bit now" nods, the heights that Ambulance can reach are sonic slices of rare genius. But on the flip side, you have got that ramshackle onstage presence apparently born out of residence in different cities across the North West and non-too frequent practice sessions. 
But if that was it alone, with Ambulance apologetically acknowledging their misgivings in an endearing manner, you'd probably conclude that they were tragically destined to be one of those lost talents, blissfully unaware of how spine-shiveringly fantastic they really are. But think again amigos, coz Ambulance know how good they are (or aim to be?) displayed in the petulant strops at the lack of sound from the monitors and frequent posturing that makes their sloppiness such a puzzle. A few steps or miles away from greatness depending on how they shape up, if Ambulance channel just a little bit of that energy and creativity into fashioning something resembling a coherent performance, anything is possible. The choice is theirs.
After that infuriating conundrum, pop-punkers The Moonies come as something of a light relief. Bounding onstage, looking much closer to 16 than their alleged 21 years, The Moonies proceed to pile drive their way through a sharp and polished set, that is ample proof that they are well capable of progressing onto greater things, beyond the city limits of this place that they're supposedly so pissed off with. Not only are the songs great - from the River Cuomo kissed harmonies of 'Blue' through to the modish 'Long, Long Time' - but as a package they have an identity to offer that most bands would kill for. Tight and together with the regulatory moves all 
present and correct, the Moonies, for want of a better term, have that "cute" appeal in terms of look, attitude and energy that will surely have media mogul's reaching for their cheque books before long. OK, so lyrically they may be a little bit naive, but do you really want sophisticated social commentary from your day glo punk pop? A fine band in the Supergrass tradition, it was rumoured that Spielberg once wanted to make a Monkee's style TV series about the Oxford mop top's. Now that Gaz and co have progressed onto bigger, brighter and generally older things, he could do a lot worse than the Moonies!
Photos by Shelly Turner :: shelly@gigwise.com
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