Paris Suit Yourself are the first up, they play some wigged out proto punk rock sounds. The drummer grabs my attention, he is evil. He gurns, sneers and glares beneath the spot light the tattoo on his neck and those on his shoulders along with his hair in a sort of top knot giving him the look of a deranged warrior sitting topless on his drum stool. He smacks and slams the skins and cymbals and the throb of his kick drums helps displace the pin holding his hair in place. He can only be the descendent of an execution drummer who took his place on the gallows to beat out the death of the accused.
The guitarist is a picture himself, dressed like a hunter who’s walked off the steppe onto the stage, his leather jacket and fur hat don’t look in tune with his Gibson. He eventually removes his furs and looks like a young Jimmy Page with his short curls and flair.
The bassist, a girl, reminds me of Maggie Simpson, playing with the insouciance and guilt that gets the yellow girl thrown out of her music class. The singer is also a picture, a black guy with dreads, he has a slight look of Jean-Michel Basquiat. He takes to the stage in what looks like a suit before peeling of the layers to reveal a vest and adidas track suit trousers. He yells, screams, sings and vogues around the stage. It doesn’t always work but there’s something of interest about PSY. They are a French band from Bordeaux though now reside in Berlin. I want to listen some more, I think I like them in small doses and for what they are trying to do. Look them up.
Cloud Nothings are next, a young band from Baltimore. I say band, its mainly about frontman Dylan Baldi, his back up band are nothing to be sneered at though. Cloud Nothings are good but they are essentially a pop-punk band who remind me of days listening to New Found Glory singing and thinking of girlfriends I’d never even had and how I wondered how they go through so many. He is sweet if a little twee telling us of how his girlfriend has opened a jar of apple sauce all by herself for the first time. She’s 19 I think. Well done her.
If Paris Suit Yourself and Cloud Nothings were a clash of styles, then Crocodiles, I suppose, are somewhere in between. On an album they are slow and gloomy, rocking away like a turgid cold. I like them, their cover of Groove Is In The Heart is a case in point, fuzzy guitars and a cymbal led beat intertwine with an organ. It’s no Deee-lite but a delight in itself. They play a headline set, by which I mean they drag the audience from wherever they were and take us with them, I don’t know them well enough to pretend they played all the hits, the songs have a lot more energy about them and you get more of a feel then on the album when you might just be sat somewhere listening to an ipod. Live there is a buzz and beat and a feel. They play their songs a go in for little chit chat apart from a few thank yous, then, its over, they walk off. Having started a little late and being due to make tracks to their next date there is no encore.
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