Ladyhawke and Black Kids at The Astoria

Ladyhawke and Black Kids at The Astoria

31 October, 2008
by: Frodo

So I am rather looking forward to this evening. Two acts that over the past twelve months have risen from mere buzzwords via toilet circuits to a fair amount of both critical and commercial acclaim. This of course is no definite indication of a bands merit in terms of longevity, recall 'The Darkness’ if you will, but hey give the kids a break it's certainly a start. They of course both played virtually every festival going this summer, at least twice in some instances, and I duly missed them at every festival this summer, at least twice in some instances. Adding to this they both perfectly blend the joys of cowbell and synth on record to a tea. So yes just to recap I'm jolly excited about what this evening has to offer.

As soon as Ladyhawke and her ensemble lurch on to the stage I almost immediately concur with many a quip I have read about her on stage demeanour. Despite her impressive stature and oh so brilliant sense of current chic, those trousers that make it look as if nerves just got the better of you, she looks rather edgy. Its not just the name that is a throw back to 1980's, the other film that Matthew Broderick starred in, but also some iconic Pac-Man and Gameboy visuals lace the screens. Her initial timid presence seems to be fading as she hastens a smile and whips through the marvellous 'Dusk Till Dawn' and sure-fire future single 'Professional Suicide'. It strikes me that if the back to the future 80's kids at the front only wiggled their high tops from side to side a bit she might smile more often. I mean we are being treated to some of the finest 80's pop without the lipstick, the hair spray or the cringe, come on! Still by the time set closer ‘Paris is Burning' is unleashed I'm completely taken although I cant help but think its one of those songs that was destined for a remix or three to really make it shine.

Following a fantastic support act can never be the easiest of tasks, maybe that why they're often dreadful or label mates. Or dreadful label mates. But when you're front man is called, Reggie Youngblood and within seconds of opener 'Look At Me When I Rock Wichoo' he is on the floor pulling some shapes while his sister, Ali Youngblood, is playing cow bell with her fingers they're off to a cracking start. By the second song in I think I quite fancy Reggie. It's not just his name nor quite mesmerising stage presence but his ability to state that, “We love London” with a Paris Hilton twang without making me want to throw up. I just wish most other people would acknowledge what a delight we are being served up this eve. All be it not quite having the material to keep me transfixed with a slight mid-set slump, The Black Kids are certainly worthy of the acclaim.

It's not until set closer that I realise that most had not been willing to overexert themselves until this point. Likely contender for anthem of the summer 'I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You' finally stirs the masses into life. Some moronic chap behind me, that obviously didn't like his over priced can of larger by the way, wants them to play it again in the encore as it's the seemingly the only song he knows. Maybe that's just it, a bit of over exposure caused largely by a gem of a song allows many a munter to by pass the rest of the repertoire. Fine by me but next time maybe his and a few others poor lady friends should take heed of Reggie. Oh Reggie.

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Frodo