White Hills, Gum Takes Tooth at Cargo - 17 April 2013

Ego Sensation of White Hills

It’s the first sign of spring.  There are more people sat in the garden at the back of Cargo than there are in the venue itself.  It’s a lovely evening and the company is pleasant.

Cocking an ear, I can keep tabs on the bands inside. Or so I think.

By the time I enter the room itself, my old friends Gum Takes Tooth are in full swing.

This is the second time in less than a week that I have seen them, and I find it interesting how the sound mix (and a certain familiarity with their material) changes my perception of the band.

At the Dalston Victoria Jussi vocals had been much louder and Thomas’ drums much more obviously electronically treated. Tonight it’s a much more low key performance and a more organic sound.  And I do enjoy the way that Jussi kind of slides across the floor while he’s playing with his various knobs and dials, like a modern parody of the Egyptian sand dance. I like them more than last week and I wasn’t really averse to them then.

I had seen Dave W from White Hills wandering about the venue earlier. This is a man who has the number of Alice Cooper’s stylist – heavy black make-up around the eyes and long straggly shoulder length hair surrounding a craggy face. Lots of leather and jewellery and he’s good to go.

Dave is accompanied on stage by the wonderfully named Ego Sensation, her dyed blonde hair flying in all directions as she pummels her bass guitar. She is a rock goddess in red and black.

The trio are completed by Nick Name, who is out of synch sartorially with the other two, looking as though he has just wandered in from the garden outside, but who makes his mark by being an absolutely shit hot drummer.

White Hills specialise in loud groove-led psychedelic space jams that take you on a wild ride to the outer reaches of your ever expanding consciousness. By which I mean that there lots of extended guitar solos and effects pedals.

There are more vocals than I had expected, W and Sensation attacking their mikes in unison, their voices echoing above the sonic onslaught.

The set races by. When the three musicians locate the sweet spot of a towering and protracted riff they are very good indeed. I find myself jiggling from foot to foot, which is pretty much as close as I can get to dancing.

The evening finishes with me deaf and happy and I gleefully buy a tour CD from the divine Ms Sensation.  Great stuff.