All Time Top 100

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

XX Teens / Hatcham Social / Maths Class – Audio

Play it by Ear has had a cracking innings down at Brighton’s Audio, consistently delivering forward thinking line ups of local and national buzz bands that never fail to provoke and inspire. Last Friday’s line up was no exception.

When new rave and post-punk are finally put to rest, (please God – it can’t be long now) no one will remember bands like local lads Maths Class. Their light speed delivery and preposterous material that mashes together mongrel electro and spazzy post-rock marks them out as quite possibly the silliest band on the planet. They’re the musical equivalent of what’s going through your Dad’s mind when he says “You’re not seriously going out like that”. Of course, that’s not necessarily a bad thing if you’re dazzling and daft in equal measure like they are. When they’re not screeching vocals or splattering away at the fret boards and manage to straighten things out with a bit of taut disco to close their set, there’s a glimpse of a far greater band desperately trying to punch its way out a new rave paper bag.

As they’re currently sitting on something of a cult hit - “How to Reduce the Chances of Being a Terror Victim” - most of tonight’s crowd are turned out to see XX Teens who, having endured a recent line up change, turn out to be a beguiling six piece in shirts and ties and beset with an edgy mania. They’re clearly out to confound too and front man Rich Cash remains motionless, expressionless and closeted behind thick sunglasses throughout.

Coupled with their grubby avant garage and thick sludgy kraut rock the studied cool works up to a point. Unfortunately the mask slips when they close with the aforementioned “How to.….”; Cash unforgivably reading its hilarious admonition from a lyric sheet and thereby shattering the band’s precision engineered cool.

‘Band of the Night Award’ then goes to openers “Hatcham Social” an intriguing three piece in bad bowl cuts and cardigans with seemingly no interest whatsoever in the traditional practices of being in a band and, like, playing songs for people. Their material is simultaneously dirge-like, awkward and skewed but there’s something hugely alluring about their complete indifference. Though the solos are only just in key, instruments are abandoned mid song and it appears the last thing they want to be doing is standing on stage, you literally can’t take your eyes off them.

Blessed with a quivering baritone that recalls greats like Morrissey and Edwyn Collins singer Toby Kidd somehow weaves meandering melodies amongst the band’s brittle, skeletal sound and though few of their tunes register in memory, such is deeply peculiar aura projected by the ensemble and the eerie atmosphere their music creates they nevertheless leave a lasting impression like on the night’s proceedings like a deep, rich bruise.

posted by: Jim Brackpool @ 10:45 PM

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