Manflu
It's a traditional Friday at the Lexington
There's the usual three men and a dog in here. We're the
three men and the dog has got the night off.
It's only slightly busier when the first act takes the
stage. 72% Morrissey is as bad a name as has ever been adopted by a band and it
rather sells them short.
The modus operandi is very straightforward. This
instrumental three-piece play nothing other than a succession of gargantuan
bluesy riffs which all sound fantastic. Unfortunately, as none of these lasts
longer than a couple of minutes they never develop into anything as substantial
as a song.
The band have worked out a special bit of stage business to
accompany each riff. Josh Ryan will throw his guitar about, or Joe Brown will
fall to his knees to ring the neck of his own instrument. Or one of them will
do a duck walk, or yell "Yeah Muithafucka!' off mike.
It's entertaining for about ten minutes, but the law of
diminishing returns sets in surprisingly quickly.
Most acts tend to spend the evening holed up in their
dressing room before being summoned to the stage. Not so Skinny Girl Diet.
They've been parked on a seat behind me and come through the audience to
clamber up into view.
Since I last saw them they have supported Primal Scream at
the Roundhouse. This experience seems to have rubbed off on them. It's also no
coincidence that Amelia is wearing a 'Death to The Pixies' T-shirt. The sound
that the band produces now is ferocious and the new songs are rooted in the
heavy fuzz of 1990's grunge.
Delilah's vocals are an incomprehensible 40-fag-a-day rasp.
She snarls and sneers through the set and simultaneously looks both happy and
utterly murderous.
It's an impressive performance, but at this rate the band
will be wowing them at Download rather than at Glastonbury
Manflu have been on the scene for a number of years. I've
long wanted to see them, but tonight is the first time that the stars have been
favourably aligned.
Tonight the band are launching an album, and all stops have
been pulled out. The guys in the band are in full grip of Movember, with much
luxurious face-furniture on display. Singer Aza is spectacularly attired in a
golden body suit.
The band plays and the crowd goes ape - Aza striding from
side to side, her Nico monotone chanting the words.
And I don't like it. It's just one of those things. They leave me completely flat. I had been looking forward to Manflu for ages, and they just don't connect with me at all.
If I had to put my finger on it I think it's because I feel
that all the dressing up is an end in its self and that without it they'd be
very ordinary. I get no spark from them, too much art and not enough rock.
Manflu remind me a lot of of the Do Me Bad Things, another
band who looked great but felt pedestrian.
I'm more disappointed with myself than anything - most
people here are having a great time. But you can't win 'em all.
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1 comment:
Manflu ended really well I thought. A ten minute mostly instrumental, very percussive (a drum and cymbal brought out for the singer to bash) and improvised. By far the best thing they did all night.
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