Lower
Than Atlantis
Newcastle
Riverside 12/04/15
This was one of those shows I almost
didn't bother going to. A band I like but don't (quite) love, a show
that I couldn't convince anyone to go to (not that I tried very hard,
but still...) and an audience that I had decided well in advance was
going to be horribly young, horribly hip and horribly horrible
(correctly, as it turned out).
Avoiding monsoon conditions on an
otherwise sunny Sunday afternoon, I arrived at the venue bright and
early to see a lengthy queue full of tight jeans, waxed hair and
carefully attended beards and decided to hit the nearest pub instead
of stand among them and be the oldest guy at the disco. Deciding to
try the resurrected Popolo's, I found largely the same crowd (but old
enough to drink) inside, enjoying the contrived décor and elaborate
cocktails. Still, a vast improvement on whichever identikit Quayside
shithole was here before.
In the length of time it took me to
down a very expensive glass of vodka and coke, I contemplated the
night's entertainment. Lower Than Atlantis are from London (Watford,
according to Wikipedia) and you really can tell when you hear
frontman Mike Duce sing. However, through a combination of witty
lyrics, heartfelt delivery and catchier-than-the-cold melodies, he
manages to make this seem endearing rather than irritating. They
took a while to grow on me but have done so like the fungus on my
feet; I can't quite get rid of them (from my ipod, not my feet) but
at the same time I'm slightly embarrassed by it. I feel like I'm too
told to enjoy this band and, having grown up through the golden era
of Britrock, can't help but feel like I've heard it done before.
Indeed, the kind of melodic, tailor-made-for-stadia rock that they
peddle is the sort of thing that Terrorvision used to do and that
Ginger Wildheart can still write in his sleep. The likes of Ash, A
and Skyscraper (look them up, you won't regret it) were doing this
nearly 20 years ago and were pretty damn good at it.
LTA, however, do have an
ever-increasing array of quality tunes, a way with words and a knack
for crafting a simple but effective earworm. A lazy journalist might
call them the UK's answer to the Foo Fighters or Jimmy Eat World,
although this is slightly unfair because LTA may, unlike those two,
still be capable of surprising us. I'm not a journalist, but I am
lazy, so the comparison is good enough for me.
So I came along tonight on the
strength of some good, catchy and genuinely endearing tunes and a
band with a boatload of potential. I arrive poorer but drunker to
find the place already wall-to-wall and seemingly enthralled by a
band called RVRIS. Without having heard them before, I had already
kind of heard them before. The sort of band that is branded 'rock'
because they have a guitarist, who plays all the same notes as the
keyboard player so there's no dynamics at all and only a beat to pick
out from the noise. The singer seemed like she was a lot of fun but
the whole band seemed to be more focused on their clothes than their
songs: to my jaded eyes they looked like somebody had sent them into
H&M on a dare to buy all of the most embarrassing clobber they
could find.
Next
up was We Are The Ocean, a band I had actually heard of but will
hopefully never have to hear again...
Anyone
remember mid-1990s 'grunge' also-rans Bush? The singer fathered a
model, married Gwen Stefani and then sold millions of records to
Americans who were bored of Pearl Jam and wanted to listen to a poor
imitation of Pearl Jam instead of Pearl Jam themselves. Well, Bush
were terrible and memorable only for Gavin Rossdale's amazing
cheekbones (look them up, you won't regret it...). We Are The Ocean
are in the same category: cheekbones over tunes. The musical
equivalent of a fashion catalogue: populated by beautiful people that
you'll forget about as soon as you stop looking. Granted the singer
has a very good voice but he seems to do the same thing with it on
every song. An embarrassing song about still being able to smell
some poor lady's perfume was followed by an even more embarrassing
song about being bitter at parents. They fucked off after some
indeterminate length of time, leaving some of the crowd inexplicably
impressed. It was an overwrought non-event to my ears but hey, each
to their own.
LTA have a lyrical knack for two
things: alternatively, disarming, almost confessional honesty and a
brash confidence which borders on arrogance. Their songs can either
be quite moving portraits of events in Mike Duce's life or attention
grabbers about their career and how ace they are. I wondered which
would come across in their performance.
They
open with recent single 'Criminal', all soaring chorus and insistent
riff. The kids go apeshit and it only takes until they play older
tune 'Far Q' for a (really quite soft) moshpit to kick off. The
latest album Lower
Than Atlantis
is understandably well represented with the lighter numbers 'Emily'
and 'Words Don't Come So Easily' getting great responses. Indeed,
Duce asks the audience which of us had only recently became fans.
Surprisingly few hands go up, suggesting that they are already
gathering quite a loyal fanbase. Disappointingly, only 'Something
Better Came Along' is played from 2012's excellent Changing
Tune
album.
The band play well, but it feels like
there's something not quite there, as if 100% is not always being
given. While lead guitarist Ben Sansom quietly does his thing and
bass player Dec Hart looks like the happiest guy in the world
throughout, it strikes me that something seems off about Mike Duce.
His voice is strong on record but tonight it seems like something is
missing; he isn't holding the notes as long as he should and he seems
quite low in the mix at times. It doesn't spoil much unless you're a
picky bastard like me, but he does come across as quite reserved when
he's singing. His confidence comes across much more when he
addresses us between songs and it's this kind of stage banter than
can cement a band's reputation, getting the crowd on side.
Towards the end, Duce asks the
audience to separate (easier said than done, given the dearth of
space) so he can stand in the middle of the floor to play a sad song
called 'Another Sad Song' on his own. Now this can easily go wrong
and by his own admission he would “look like a massive wanker” if
it did. Fortunately it's really well received and makes for a nicely
intimate moment.
The biggest cheer of the night goes
up for older single 'Deadliest Catch' (the lyrics are a witty twist
on the adage 'plenty more fish in the sea'). It's by no means their
best song, but people go nuts for it. They close with a stomping
'Here We Go', which is surely set to be their calling card for years
to come.
So overall a good but not quite great
night. They played well but didn't excel, didn't play all of the
songs I wanted to hear and sometimes sounded a bit shy. But to leave
on a positive, they filled this place and seem to have some young and
loyal fans. I have some faith that these guys will get bigger and
better and tonight is just another rung in their slow ascent to
Wembley Stadium.
Special mention must go to the
enormous waistcoat-clad hipster stood in front of me, who looked like
a bouncer that forgot to stop at the door. He only seemed to know
songs from the new album and I have never in my life seen somebody
look so terrified in a moshpit. Hilarious.
No comments:
Post a Comment