GIG REVIEWS

Late Of The Pier
@ Leeds Cockpit
15.2.08
www.vanguard-online.co.uk


There is a truly strange film called “Urgh! A Music War” from 1981, which is just a collection of in-concert snippets from the likes of XTC, Devo, Gary Numan, Klaus Nomi, and The Police. Long out of circulation (except bittorrent sites), it features a wet-yourself-laughing track from Gary Numan, delivering “Down In The Park” from a one-man dodgem (sorry, “futuristic space-vehicle”), steered by a joystick located remarkably close to Gazza’s real ‘joy stick’. He back and forths around the stage looking alienated as his adenoids intone over synthesisers.


And the point of that story? Late Of The Pier keep being referenced as Midlands Numanoids. They have a long, strange and pointless journey to take to match up to these comparisons. Instead we have a dancey and upbeat but intense band, linked to Mr N only by dependance on synths and deliberately flat vocals. You can dance to Late Of The Pier and, reader, I did. But three cheers for the girl done up in Numanoid make-up, all alienated in black, like.


The Cockpit is pretty full tonight and the jerky rhythms have the desired effect. Keyboard electronics are emphasised by all three consoles are surrounded by what appear to be foil-covered Christmas cake covers for futuristic effect. The cake effect is topped off by the lovely gold shirt sported by one member. Motorik synthesised beats drive things forward, enlivened by live drums – not an easy thing to work with ordinarily. Allied to the synths and flat adenoidal vocals are guitar and bass, supplied when the band aren’t working the keys. The bassist works hard, hair shaking everywhere and bass synthesiser effects are low enough to feel in my bowels. The band are pretty hyped up and it is infectious – cryptic nonsense shouts and announcements add to the energy. When, after thirty-five minutes, they play the single everyone was waiting for, the crowd surfing kicks off. Sadly, a bouncer decides his priority is to grab one culprit and drag him on stage before ejecting him. His technique involves elbowing the singer out of the way and, though the band hammers through to the end of the song, they disappear straight after and don’t come back. Dunno what that was all about but they left a puzzled audience, eager for more.

But a band that call a song White Snakes in reference to a silly hair metal band beloved of their home town, Castle Donnington, are likely to be confusing now and again.




Ross McGibbon