Katzenjammer at Islington Academy - 31 October 2012

Katzenjammer

It’s Halloween. A night of horrible fun and light hearted nastiness.

I’ve already seen an impressive Jason/ Pinhead hybrid on the tube. He’s tall and menacing and carries a sword. He gets to have any train seat that he wants.

As we enter the venue, the first act is already onstage. You’d think that he was in costume. But he’s not.

Ben Caplan hides a very basic act behind a riot of grey facial hair. When Edward Lear wrote of a man with a beard, Caplan took notes. Every meal the man ever ate must be in there somewhere.

Caplan’s act is simplicity itself. There is a certain amount of folksy charm and a whole lot of all-join-in-the-chorus call and response stuff. If there is a rhyme all night that is more subtle than moon-June-spoon I don’t hear it.

Ben Caplan is likeable enough. Indeed, being likeable IS his act. But it is so lowest common denominator undemanding stuff that he could probably do this with his eyes shut.

A confession. Last time I saw Katzenjammer, I couldn’t warm to them. They were clearly good, but I just couldn’t feel it. I’m here to give myself a second chance.

In the spirit of the season, the band come onstage sporting a variety of false moustaches. It looks really weird. But then Katzenjammer are rather a weird beast.

Theirs is a musical chimera of Scandinavian folk, American country music and Weimar cabaret. It’s rather a queasy mix and some of it works and some of it doesn’t.

That’s actually a lie. There is nothing that Katzenjammer do that is not well executed and completely spot on. I genuinely like them...

...but not here, not tonight.

This is a soulless rectangular box full of people. This band should be enjoyed in a dark, comfortable bar, preferably with me zonked out on expensive brandy.  In the harsh confines of the Islington Academy, I’m too uncomfortable to relax into the band. Everything seems strained and forced. After half an hour I leave.

I've tried twice with Katzenjammer and both times have failed to enjoy it for reasons that I can't really fathom. It really is a case of 'it's not them, it's me.'

As I pass through Angel tube station, a young girl is being attended to by paramedics. A young man is having hysterics and is being physically restrained from throwing himself upon them as they try to revive her. It is one of the most upsettingly horrible things I’ve ever seen.

Happy Halloween.

Katzenjammer, Karima Francis at Scala - 22 March 2012

Katzenjammer

Karima Francis faces an uphill task. She’s sat on a stool with an acoustic guitar and she’s trying to gather the attention of an audience who are stoked and excited for the headline act that follows.

She’s not quite alone. Hidden in the shadows at the side of the stage is a second guitarist. His profile is so low that I was only alerted to his presence at all after her set has finished.

Francis is certainly distinctive in appearance. I’ve often commented before on performers’ hair, but the huge pile of curls on display here is a magnificent construction that puts even Yehan Jehan in the shade. If it’s not a wig, then going to sleep must be like climbing into a nest.

Karima wins the crowd over by the simple expedient of being very sweet natured and having a terrific voice. There are big echoes of the likes of Joan Armatrading, so this is not revolutionary stuff. But it is really well done.

Norwegian band Katzenjammer have established an absolutely rabid fanbase that is similar to that of Amanda Palmer. The crowd talks to the band, the band talks back. The audience know that it is Anne Marit’s birthday and hold up cards and messages. Everyone laughs back and forth. As an outsider, I feel a bit excluded.

Katzenjammer are Fun with a capital ‘F’. They are deliberately zany and kooky and play to their considerable strengths. This includes multiple swapping of various esoteric instruments, including a spectacular bass balalaika which is as big as a desk.

The songs are mostly riotously upbeat numbers which lean more towards musical theatre or cabaret than rock. There is much stamping and singing and clapping from the audience, which is so pleased with itself that the air hangs heavy with self-congratulation.

The girls take it in turns to showcase themselves. It is pure Vaudeville. Banjos are plucked, ukuleles are strummed, and accordions are wheezed. There is much harmonising. Anne Marit, Marianne, Solveig and Turid are so impressive that it is hard to resist them.

New album ‘A Kiss Before You Go” gets a good airing, including a pounding version of single “Rock Paper Scissors.”

Watching them perform, you get the feeling that the only thing that could limit Katzenjammer’s success would be the size of audience that they can play to. They will do fearsome damage at this summer’s festivals.