I’m always a little bit sceptical when I’m about to see a dance act, even one prefixed, oddly, with the ‘indie’ adjective. There’s something Not Quite Right about seeing two guys playing music through a series of contraptions analogue and digital, LED-littered units and a mess of wires. They could just be playing their CDs under the desk, couldn’t they? They might have their iTunes library open, right?
Such pessimism often breeds a reluctance to go to this sort of gig. Some time ago a Chemical Brothers, Faithless or Fat Boy Slim show wouldn’t even have lightly pricked my interest. After tonight, though, I’m converted.
I’m a complete Simian Mobile Disco virgin. It took Justice to bring them to my attention, and they don’t even play that track tonight. Instead they blow me – and all and sundry – away with everything else. And they’re only the support band, playing second fiddle to Mercury winners Klaxons.
The visual show surrounding SMD’s bobbing twin bodies is almost as tight as the electronic beats: vertical bars of light flash between red, green and blue and guide white circles up and down around the two guys as they tweak their arrangement of equipment at the centre of the stage – it’s all very Radiohead at Glasto 2003, aesthetically. During each of the songs the two James’ are only visible by their silhouettes dashing between the beams, the ceiling cast in white light.
As expected the set is one long mix of tracks woven together with a joyous jauntiness that sends hands thrusting into the dry ice mist. But such descriptions inevitably fail to portray the display in all its real, malleable glory.
The duo continue to work their knobs, switches and buttons, bending bodies around in the darkness to the rhythm being generated. The use of the equipment as a percussion instrument is impressive, and with every thud of an open fist the songs alter and transform into the next track. Sound and vision is often said to be the sensory combination that inspires and awes, and this astonishes. This feels more of an event than a traditional gig, with subsequent DJs sending the crowd into a euphoric state of indie trance. Headliners Klaxons can only stand back and wish that their show was as electric as their support’s. An unfortunate position to be in, especially when you’ve supposedly penned NME’s Song of the Year.
Words: Dean Samways
Photos: neumagazine.co.uk
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