Les Savy Fav

Les Savy Fav

21 July, 2008
by: Domzig

What’s happened to punk shows lately? Everybody’s got so drearily cool. When once a hardcore show was all about throwing down with a bunch of smiling people who didn’t care if you drink or not, suddenly everyone’s like ‘oh, but you’re an anarcho syndacalist psych-crust guy, what the fuck are you doing at this Autumn For Ashes gig?’

That’s why when you find out about a band like Les Savy Fav you want to cling on to them like a 10 you’ve just chatted up in a bar. With a sound that’s like a party version of Fugazi with U2 parts thrown in, and an attitude that pretty much says ‘pass the laughing gas’, who wouldn’t want to spend an evening in their company at the Scala?

OK, so the support wasn’t excellent. Graffiti Island were like a cop at a house party, yeah they looked the part, with a whole Pixies meets The Make Up take on the bass-drums-singer thing, but as performers they were a bit unconvincing. The lead singer milled about bored mumbling things about sun-tan lotion and burritos and occasionally sang a little bit over some lo-fi drum hitting. Maybe it works on record?

Not to worry though, Les Savy Fav are on the way, and the party can start. Cue half an hour of people running on and off the stage twiddling knobs and carrying things, and then low and behold, the lead singer comes bounding on wearing a pixie style cape and riding boots. “Hi” he says coyly “we’re a band from New Zealand” What?!?

Anyways, on rush some sharply dressed Kiwi’s who go by the name of Cut Your Hands Off and played one song of angular rock, punctuated by a lot of falling over and throwing the mic in the air, and then as enigmatically as they arrived run off leaving a sell out crowd scratching their heard in bemusement.

Not to worry though, Les Savy Fav are on the way, and sure enough after a short period of general techery, the lights go down and the guitars ring out. On rushes Tim Harrington kitted out to look like an English gentleman except wearing a stocking on his face. It’s all a bit of a blur after that, with guys being pulled out of the audience to be ridden like horses, various costume changes, and Harrington climbing about the whole of the Scala whilst singing from a microphone and kissing people. No mean feat for a guy who’s admittedly a bit on the chunky side.

The best thing about Harrington is that is antics are contagious, after about 10 minutes everyone’s dancing, hugging and generally fooling around. Like all good shows, the encore descending into massive free for all stage invasion, where worried bouncers stood looking aghast at the multitude of smiling faces swarming the stage, forcing the band to play their last song stood on the drum riser.

That’s the genius of Les Savy Fav, they can hold an audience like a man holding a gun. They’re like Styles out of Teen Wolf when he’s running that game of ‘Lucky Dip’ and spilling jelly down girls tops. Yeah, to outside eyes they could look like a bunch of pretentious assholes being ' post ironic' all the time, but if you get to know them you'll realise the Fav are the musical equivalent of getting naked at a 40th birthday party.

Sadly like all good things, their NMEisation is on the way, and I’ll have to go back to listening to obscure grindcore bands and shaking my head at the state of music. But before that happens throw us a beer, and pass me the Panda costume, because I want to party!

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Domzig