Sebastien Grainger at The Lexington

Sebastien Grainger at The Lexington

12 February, 2009
by: Lianne

Sometimes it's nice to go to a gig with only the faintest idea of what to expect. It's a thrill when a band you hope to like kicks up music that perfectly floods the room. Your hopes are affirmed, the sound rips upwards through the soles of your feet, and warmth is spread through your body in some indiscernible blast of goodness.

Last night, I was hoping Sebastien Grainger and the Mountains might deliver a piece of this. I'd listened to their myspace tracks and been quite taken with what I'd heard. I found the scratchy, faintly noise-laden recording the perfect cover for Sebastien's half-quavering vocals and the tight indie-rock melodies exhilaratingly spot on. So I ask my friend Neeks if she'd like to come, and that's that.

The next night we are milling around with the faint glow of expectation for an hour or so before it becomes evident that there's some confusion regarding support. I write down four different names before finding out, at 9.30, that only Disaster Party will be preceding Sebastien and Co.

Disaster Party come on at 9.45. There are maybe 40 people in the audience and they stand hesitant and five feet back as the three guys blast through a faintly clunky though not un-endearing set of tight, post-hardcore rock. The drums are a bit loud, and creep up over the singer's girlish vocals and pleasant shriek-outs but the overall effect is solid, if subdued; the audience seeming sympathetic but largely unresponsive. I later realise that Disaster Party were only called in a few days previous, which explains this vibe – the audience is a mixture of friends and unsuspecting attendees and the band's response is a curiously shy ankle-gazing approach that seems completely at odds with their rollicking sound.

Sebastien Graingier is due on next, but astoundingly doesn't take to the stage for another 40 minutes, finally clocking on at 10.50. I'm ready to forget all that, but it does feel a little sad; a tired exercise in a dismissive 'they'll wait for us' attitude that isn't really made better when the band starts up and there's no hint of eye contact or half-smiling interaction until 25 minutes in when it's a lazy handwave, introductory line and accusatory invitation to dance.

The band play for an hour in total, and it's reasonable enough. Sebastien's vocals are up to the job of fighting through the noisy guitars and crisp drums which threaten to dominate, and there's some nice keyboard work and peddling electro to enhance the guitar-heavy melody. The band are also prone to the sort of musical breakdowns and screaming vocal fits that I usually like, so – attitude aside – perhaps I should be happy. Unfortunately their performance just feels a bit flat and by-numbers, like someone plumbing a well-trodden 'rock out' formula. It occurs to me that I preferred listening to their music on record, when the almost lo-fi recording constrained the explosive melody and caused it to fracture through like sunlight. An unusual realisation, but, y'know, it is what it is.

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Lianne