Portland, Oregon appears to be vying for Brooklyn's place as music city of the year - I guarantee that twelve months from now, you'll all want to move there. Out of the last ten bands I've seen play, more than half of them appear to have sprouted from the most green city in the US. Perhaps it's the clean air or all the protein in that quinoa they grow.
Named after a penny arcade in San Francisco, the usually four man strong MUSEE MECANIQUE have arrived from Portland for their first taste of the UK as a two hander. Taking on the role of backing band to fellow 'City of Roses' music-maker Laura Gibson, they're doubling up in condensed form as her support too.
Anyway, it's always a sublime joy to witness the virgin performance of a band in new territory - the trepidation, uncertainty and fear coupled with a palpable excitement and enthusiasm. All those things are in evidence tonight, albeit in a somewhat understated fashion. It's early evening and the first support slot can be unkind to any band or performer - thankfully, there's enough of a crowd up front at The Windmill to accommodate the incongruous charms of the MM chaps. They might be reduced to a twosome but appear more than competent in fleshing out their sound - elaborate foot operated drum constructions pass well enough for the lack of a percussion unit and some well co-ordinated stage management takes care of the low body count. They're multi-taskers, extraordinaire.
Stout co-frontman Micah Rabwin is chirpy and engaging - even asking at one point for beer recommendations as he's 'trying to drink as many different ales as possible' during their time abroad. His sparring partner, the floppy fringed Sean Ogilvie is a much quieter presence, absorbing the atmosphere and churning out some mean accordion.
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Their influences are hard to pin down and I don't quite know which bands I'd put them on with at my fantasy music festival; after five minutes on their myspace, I was convinced that they were a folksier, more organic version of The Postal Service but there's much more going on - there's more meat on the bones of their songs than Ben Gibbard's could ever manage. Although they can sound restrained at times, this could be nothing more than a device - a means of carefully controlling the listener's feelings, gently massaging the heartstrings, so to speak. Letting them loose, reigning them in.
Their best song, the sepia-washed "Two Friends Like Us" brillianty represents the potential of what they can do - it feels like a familiar and well-loved friend, a warm cup of cocoa with just a dash of scotch to follow.
By the end of their set, the early evening chatter has subsided - the pastoral charms of Micah and Sean winning over the room. It's a valiant taste of what's to come when they return in 2010 with three extra men - and the prospect of what they can do, made whole again, is rather intoxicating. I'll be first in the queue, thank you very much....
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