Providing more than solid support to all-girl NYC goth-rock outfit THE DUM DUM GIRLS were UK quartet MAZES, whose languid, beautifully apatheic, yet epic U.S. indie sound is virtually grunge-free and effortlessly classy.
Ahead of the release of their already much-lauded debut album 'A Thousand Heys', the capital-based foursome were quick to demonstrate/justify why their scurfed-out surf soundtrack has prompted deserved comparisons with early nineties legends PAVEMENT.
Their rolling renditions of home-made instant classics such as the pop-art Warhol-minded brilliance of 'Surf n' Turf' and the sub-menacing ode to oblivion that is 'Bowie Knife' were almost matter of fact, but super-strong indicators of iminent greatness.
It was only when headline act the DUM DUM GIRLS actually took to the stage that I realised that the predominantly male audience were willing or unwitting participators in generating a real, and non-illusional apathy and that perhaps for the majority, their music was secondary to the band's somewhat overrated and wholly manufactured sexuality.
Matching tights aside, the 'feign boredom' stance of the headline act was just as uniform: however superficial it may be, their occasional slightly smirking air of mild amusement seemed to propel them all the way to the outer fringes of the autistic spectrum before they'd played a single note.
The image-conscious foursome opened with a wholly uninspiring rendition of 'He Gets Me High', and thus the tone of repetitive dirge was set.
|
As lead singer Kristin Gundred furtively eyed the attentive, adoring audience, the rest of the band eyed each other. Was their music really going down well with these gullible limeys? Judging by the size of the audience, it'd be fair to say that they can see people coming.
Gundred's voice sounded OK in terms of her ability to sing, but her vocals were, for the main part, neutral and anonymous. Delivered from the stage, tracks like 'Bhang Bhang' and the He Gets Me High EP filler 'Take Care' proved to be as nondescript or instantly forgettable as the recordings.
This is as apathetic as it gets: anti-disco lifelessness that's not only the height of cliche, but just as factory-processed as the glitzy radio-friendly work of their mainstream contemporaries.
Redeeming moments included the first traces of venom and sparks of life of the evening that came during the faster album title track 'I Will Be'. 'Hey Sis' was another relative standout; the echoing guitar sound was actually quite absorbing.
But despite the band's attention to detail when it came to their hoisery (sheesh!), the sum of the parts simply didn't add up on the night.
|
