SLOW CLUB
Moats
The
Kazimier
8th
July 2014
Timing is important for a touring band. Got
an established back catalogue and army of fans behind you? You can probably
play whenever the fuck you want. Only got a handful of demos to your name? Go
ahead and book dates at your leisure because lets be honest, no one gives a
shit anyway. Days away from the release of your third album? You’re in no man’s
land, as you attempt to establish the identity of your latest musical direction
without alienating the fans that you’ve picked up along the way. This is
especially true for a band like SLOW CLUB, whose sound and general aesthetic
has evolved significantly over the course of three albums. Their debut effort Yeah,
So? treaded tenuously around the notion of twee, with lyrics such as ‘Will
you hold my hand when I go?’ delivered just sharply enough to uncover some
human complexity behind their structural simplicity. The follow up, the
excellent Paradise, expanded both in concept and in timbre, thrusting them
into the echelons of the countries best indie pop songwriters and shaking off
any perception that they are just a boy-girl duo singing about love and
cupcakes and all the rest. With Complete Surrender and Suffering You,
Suffering Me, Slow Club have implied a sense of nostalgia for album number
three, exploring the forms and melodies of fifties pop songs in a way that’s
more forward facing that we’ve seen from the band before.
MOATS are one of the best new bands in
Liverpool right now, propping up the bill with some snarling guitar rousers
reminiscent of early Liars. Guitar bands needs front men though, and Moats are
blessed with a great one, balancing between the notions that he’s either a bit
of a dickhead or he’s just fucking with us in a way that all the best rock
stars do. Having just played Austin City Limits off the back of support from
The NME, its impressive to see them continue to express what they’re about on
stage with such conviction.
A poor sound technician kicks over a
customized synth during sound check, rendering it all but useless, much like
his resulting employability. We are very much being ‘road tested’ tonight, and
it shows. The set-list is almost being made up on the spot, as Rebecca Lucy
Taylor offers apologies for the ramshackle nature of the evening and of the
performances around her. Vocally though, Taylor is typically brilliant, turning
at times arbitrary lyrics like ‘The greatest book you ever read came from my favorites
list’ (Beginners), or ‘I think that next summer if we’re still alive/we
should try’ (If We’re Still Alive) into rousing statements, as these
songs that can be delicate at heart are blithely turned into anthems.
The glaring omission of any material from
their first album is a head scratcher. I mean, their sound and confidence both
as songwriters and performers has visibly grown in the years since its release,
so it is understandable that they might want to distance themselves from it.
This complete detachment though, especially in favour of so many new, unheard
tunes, disconnects them from the audience in a way that turns the gig from a
communal celebration into a show and tell, forcing the audience to try and make
sense of these new tunes on the spot and in turn, losing that ‘in the moment’ feeling
that we, as gig-goers, crave. There is little doubt that the new album will be
a belter, which will continue to propel Slow Club’s stratospheric rise. Yet
despite the special moments, like the heart-wrenching crack in Charles Watson’s
voice during a solo performance of Horses Jumping, or the gorgeous
harmonies during Never Look Back, tonight feels worryingly
underprepared.
Mike Townsend
@townsendyesmate
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