Photo: Chris Birkinshaw
Se1 London, November 25. London’s great and the good of the indie scene came together to get drunk, stay up till the wee hours, oh yeah and watch a few bands. Being of discerning music journalistic breed, we took it as our duty to cram as many bands as possible into the ball, and obviously sample of the alcohol and that mysterious gaseous substance on sale in balloons. Mmmm.
First band we catch a glimpse of are those Devonshire boys The Rumbles Strips over in the main room, where with catchy-as-hell tunes like ‘Oh Creole’, they prove Gigwise’s astute formula right: brass instruments + performing live = good.
Now to The Blood Arm in the Crossover Arena – the room was packed (a rarity for the night), and the booming drum lead raucous tracks completely filled it. Yep, clichés aside, the crowd was indeed loving it, with ‘Suspicious Character’ the obvious favourite. Frontman Nathaniel Fregosos does his obligatory dives into the crowd and even calls for us to sit on the floor for one number, leaving those wearing lighter coloured garments nicely spattered in gunk for the rest of the night. A captivating performer, Nathaniel single-handedly transforms what is boring on record into a live treat.
Neils Children peddled their indie by numbers next, and although the performance was adequate, the tracks leave little to be desired as we’ve heard it all a million times before. Yawn. Instead we move to the Modular Records Arena, and dance like lunatics to the electro/indie offerings that London’s been peddling long before a certain music rag labelled it ‘new rave’. We manage to partly instigate a multiple person dance floor pile up, and at this point wisely vacate the ‘Arena’.
Over in the Crossover Arena we catch Roland Shanks. As everyone at the Insomniac’s Ball at this point seemed high on ‘good times’ it no doubt spurred on those south London boys, which resulted in them play possibly the best performance we’ve seen from them yet. No small feat. White Rose Movement the graced us with their presence – typically moody, despite their obvious knack for writing great retrogressive synth tunes, they somehow leave us as cold as their icy expressions.
It was in the Main Room though that one of the night’s knockout performances was belted out courtesy of The Sunshine Underground. Although the heat was stifling, yet again these boys managed to play their hearts out, with favourites 'The Way It Is' and 'I Ain’t Losing Any Sleep' sounding particularly sublime. Our only concern is for front-man Craig who was wearing the same tracksuit top that we’ve seen him wear the last three performances (as well as all weekend at Bestival). Our plea to the indie massive is: please buy their debut album Raise the Alarm, not only is it packed with enough dance funk to give The Rapture a run for their money, but also, maybe he can then afford to buy something else.
This feeling is shared for Belgium’s latest fine export Goose, who effortlessly fuse house beats with guitars and an impossibly captivating frontman. Really it’s enough to convert those with no passing interest in dance music, to neck a few pills and get into the groove. Unfortunately, this blinding set clashes with Art Brut, meaning we only witness Art Brut’s cliché riddled, yet highly beguiling finale courtesy of Eddie Argos.
Performance of the night goes to The Young Knives, who headlined the main room. Every article written seems to mention their lack of image awareness when every other band is rocking the indie pre-requisite of skinny jeans and scruffy t-shirt. But really, does it matter? Their live sets are a delicious mix of intelligent guitar pop songs laced with crowd interaction. With a band that gives good banter, as well as one of the best debut albums of the year, should people really care that they look like they work in a bank? What would you prefer, The Kooks?!
By 4:00 SE1 was emptying out considerably until by throwing out time at 6am there only seemed a handful of us ‘insomniacs’ left, how very un rock n roll. The slurring reprobates (i.e. us) were left staggering to the unlicensed taxi, asking anybody within falling distance where the after party was.
Our verdict: although we were disappointed in the band loving crowd who seemed to scarper as soon as the bands had finished, the djs kept it rocking until it was time to wake up again, which resulted in the best night out we’ve had in a long while. And the laughing gas was only partly responsible.
