Monday, 30 April 2012

No Bull

Yes, yes, the title is atrocious.



CAT MATADOR/ DALLAS DON’T/ PUMP SHARK/ ROBOTS WITH SOULS, Port Mahon, 20/4/12


Sometimes it doesn’t take much to be new.  Live looping stopped being surprising some time ago, and bass and drums duos litter hipster house parties like half smoked Camels, yet we’ve never seen anyone put them together.  Robots With Souls’ Steve Wilson balances a two string bass on a sparse drum kit, and samples up some big, dense rhythms over which he delivers fragmented lyrics with melodic intensity.  Somewhere in this marriage of indie crooning and dumbass mall sludge, a truly excellent new act has been created.  It’s a fantastic show, that in the sweaty crucible of the Port Mahon feels more a shared ritual than a gig.

Wycombe’s Pump Shark offer a twitchier take on rock intensity, jerky rhythms continually pulling the rug beneath soul-baring vocal howls.  There’s a little of the sensitive brutality of Fugazi in their mixture of choppy guitars and lopsided sincerity, but somehow the set never quite gets off the leash.  If Pump Shark could get over a certain studied restraint they could be powerful, but as it is the initial buzz dwindles before their half hour is up.

There’s something we adore about Dallas Don’t, but let’s be frank, it ain’t their playing.  The rhythms are sloppy and they’re rarely entirely in tune, but it doesn’t matter because their music tells stories, and each slurred vocal line conjures up images that massed ranks of well-drilled musos could never achieve.  The sound is a fascinating battle between erudite, melancholic indie and scruffy US rock – The Delgados morphing into Mudhoney, perhaps – and you get the feeling that if one side ever won the fight, the magic would dissipate, but for now this tuneful whirlwind of rage and romanticism is one of the best things in Oxford music.

A Cat Matador is a funny idea.  Wave a cape at your average moggy and you’ll get bemused disdain, not an enraged stampede.  And we feel roughly the same: Cat Matador play well enough, doing all the right things with violin-flecked indie, putting intricate snare patterns behind introspective Tindersticks laments, but we just can’t dredge up any excitement.  There are some mournful fiddle lines and clattering bursts of energy to snag our ears, but generally the feeling is that whilst Cat Matador and Pump Shark are decent enough bands, real character will always win out.

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