The Half Rabbits+ Sennen+ Sunnyvale Noise Sub-Element+ Cogwheel Dogs- The Wheatsheaf 25 April 2008
Monday, April 28th, 2008Not a lot of uncomplicated enjoyment on offer at tonight’s Oxjam fundraiser, which is a long way from saying there was no good music. Angular guitar-and-cello duo Cogwheel Dogs got the evening off to a more-than-decent start, with an immaculately played set of occasionally awkward, but often highly potent ballads. Latest single ‘Cress’ is a grower (pardon the pun) and tonight is performed with tremendous bluesy brio. The excellent, misty-eyed ‘Ghostwriter’ doesn’t suffer much from the absence of the hypnotic typewriter which graces the record, and even the underwhelming-on-CD ‘Anticoagulant’ seems better balanced tonight, with Rebecca Mosley’s ever-more-authoritative singing keeping Tom Parnell’s screeching cello from freaking out the squares just that little bit too much.
‘I Love You every Time You Smile’. Uhhhh. Sweet, right? Very Lionel Ritchie or Randy Newman? Read it a couple more times and it starts to look decidedly ambiguous. Anyway, this is the least-inaccessible tune in Sunnyvale Noise Sub-Element’s canon, and the best introduction to their arty, abstract post-rock constructions, which involves sophisticated programmed beats, samples and guitar playing which alternates between the almost indie-ish (as on the hypnotic riff of ‘Smile’) and ferocious squalls of terrifying noise. Indeed there is an almost comic disconnect between the visceral pounding that the boffinish Simon Minter gives his axe and the quiet, almost apologetic friendliness of his interactions with the audience. In an ideal world, Sunnyvale would have a residency at one of London’s more dangerous nightclubs, as their best numbers seem to be made for dancers at the very edge of reason, rather than the immobile chin-strokers of tonight’s Wheatsheaf.
On to Norwich’s Sennen, who threw soundman Joal into raptures with a set of indie pop that made him talk of bands like Seafood and other shoegazing luminaries. I’d throw in Teenage Fanclub and even the Raveonettes, due to their extensive use of unusually far-apart harmonies: sixths and octaves in particular. To be honest, I found most of their songs rather soporific: they’d give us two minutes of atmospheric post-punk (with the ultra-catchy ‘Blackout’ being a stand-out) or folky Furries-influenced ballads and then meander on with ever-decreasing returns. Still, the harmonies are wonderful and they’re not Turin Brakes, so for that relief much thanks.
Closing the evening were indie rockers The Half Rabbits, who I still can’t quite get. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, because I know they are really tight, they have a highly distinctive singer in Michael Weatherburn, they can rock as hard as Smashing Pumpkins and lots of cool people like them. In addition, they have an interesting ‘bubbling’ interplay between the bass and guitars which adds further to their originality (best heard on their most memorable song ‘This Changes Everything’), but I still came away from the gig unable to remember an awful lot of their set. I guess it’s not them, it’s me, but I still think Weatherburn’s vocal melodies verge from the nursery-rhyme to the incomprehensible with little in between. If they can find one or two more killer tunes they’ll be unstoppable.
By Colin MacKinnon
