Another day, another fine opportunity for London Transport to prove how much it actually sucks balls. Big, hairy balls riddled with cancerous, nay leprous, weeping cysts. Yes, as testament to my almost frightening dedication to 'the cause', I am actually forced to endure rail, then bus, then tube and finally a black cab in order to get to ULU on this grey evening. Sheesh. And it's not like ULU is much of a venue anyway. It smells like stale booze and poverty with just a hint of failed conquests, the décor is relatively rank and, as soon becomes apparent, the sound is rather rubbish. Not exactly inspiring then.
Anyway, onwards and upwards. Against all odds I manage to catch the last half of Land of Talk's set which proves to be fairly solid curtain-raiser material. A three-piece from Montreal, Land of Talk consists of Elizabeth, the lead singer and two rather beige-seeming men on drums and bass respectively. She has a sweet, pure voice but I can't help thinking that she's the poor man's Nina Persson, hovering around the same six or so notes that start to tug a little by the end of the set. Musically, it's got an early nineties feel – it's pleasant, slightly grungy indie pop that bobs along in a fairly predictable fashion. While not exactly gripping to watch, there is talent here and it's clear that the PA doesn't do Land of Talk justice as much of her vocals are swallowed unceremoniously by the instruments.
And now the band that everyone is actually waiting for… Tapes 'n Tapes. Minneapolis stock, these four rugged men seem to have accrued a loyal following on England's shores - one of those bands you've probably heard of, but not actually heard. For the unacquainted listener, think sodden, bluesy, swampy rock n roll, a little bit Kings of Leon and Black Keys but significantly more easy-listening. They like to make noise and all in all it's good noise, although as with the previous band, singer Josh's gruff offerings are smoggy and muffled at best. Fortunately this is compensated with the drummer pounding away like a drugged automaton, the ever-changing antics of a jack-of-all-trades percussion bloke and the bassist giving it his enthusiastic and expressive all.
Tapes 'n Tapes do a pretty good job of rocking out. As I watch, their hair flicked akimbo and their spit sailing into the mics, I start to wish I was recklessly drinking whisky from a brown paper-bagged receptacle and not sipping on Carlsberg from a plastic bottle. (what the hell is that about anyway? alcohol for toddlers?)
What strikes me most is the band's ability to one minute whack out swollen, gritty songs and the next pare it down to something simple, beachy and almost ballad-like. Not surprisingly the set is dominated by songs from their latest album, 'Walk it Off', with the highlights for me being 'Le Ruse' and 'Hang them All'. Shunning the urge to categorise Tapes 'n Tapes in any conventional manner, I leave the gig with one predominant, albeit abstract, thought: its music to burn your house down to.
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