The new acoustic movement never did herald a new dawn for British music, but then I don’t suppose anyone really believed the world would fall at the feet of skinny white boys looking glum and singing about how no-one fancies them. The last year has proved crunch time for many of the band lumped (often unfairly it must be said) into that category, and as the second albums continue to emerge we will gradually see the lasting impact- which bands sink to obscurity and which go on to take their place in musical history.
Though there is not an acoustic guitar in sight for opening band THE CRANEBUILDERS tonight, there is something very “NAM” about them. They look like a scruffy sixth-form indie band ten years later- a singer hiding behind a long fringe, an NHS be-spectacled bass player, and even a longhaired hippy-looking girl on the keyboards. Their lovelorn songs are played out to a “Placebo go folk” musical backdrop- angular riffs, throbbing bass lines and psychedelic squall all toned down to within an inch of their life. This is not to say The Cranebuilders were bad, in fact they were enjoyable, giving off a thoroughly amiable sound- but it was so inoffensive that it was just too forgettable.
Having watched one band attempt to tread the thin musical line between “ambience” and “just plain dull”- on came AIDAN SMITH who no one will forget too quickly. Taking the stage playing a lone piano, his short songs (barely any of them touching the 2 minute mark) were dry, humorous and self-deprecating. It has to be said that anyone who can stop playing half way through the introduction to their first song because they’ve forgotten what they are playing, and then launch into a song containing the immortal lines “I like your eyes, and your chicken pies” has to be worth a listen.
It wasn’t clear to start with whether this was meant to be a novelty act, the cabaret style piano had almost a Les Dawson feel about it- though at times Smith sounded almost Nick Drake and at others a dead ringer for Ben Kweller. Perhaps it was a bit too referential for it’s own good (a song about Westlife and other such pop bands will probably not stand the test of time) and you can hardly imagine it making a killer CD. However, as a skewed and alternative look at the topics of love and loneliness, it was a wonderfully entertaining live performance.
Then came I AM KLOOT - the all-capitals, white-on-black logo declaring their presence behind them and all around the venue. A bold statement, but merely a pre-cursor for the musical one they were about to make, because there is no doubt IAK - now touring their second album - will not sit happily in NAM mediocrity. As if to highlight this, when the heckling turns slightly more aggressive, from the friendly banter into a plastic glass being hurled at the stage, John Bramwell crossed the stage guitar aloft and threatened to batter his assailant. Now you can’t see Turin Brakes doing that can you?!
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Musically, IAK are not a straightforward proposition, although this is no bad thing. Rather than plodding through a set of songs they give each one a life of it’s own- be it the psychedelic jazz chords of "A Strange Arrangement of Colour", or the almost bluegrass shuffle of "From Your Favourite Sky" - they are as happy filling the venue with fat, rocky chords as they are with gently finger-picked folk. Their sound belies their three-piece line up, sounding bigger and more vibrant than you imagine they could. A large part of this is the rhythm section- Pete Jobson, who remains seated throughout the gig hidden behind his Brett Anderson style fringe, combines his flowing bass lines with the tub-thumping drums of Andy Hargreaves to create an hypnotic sound that underpins the songs with mesmerising effect.
Filled out with the ethereal guitar effects, the music rarely disappoints- rising, falling, changing style and pace, but always involving, perfectly complimenting John Bramwell’s croaking vocals. There is something of the Bob Dylan about him, a world-wearied sound reflected in the wry delivery of his lyrics- but the songs are never far from the melodic. They are tuneful without being saccharine sweet, and melancholy without being dreary. Tonight he is on top form (brief scuffle aside), toasting the crowd with his pint of Guinness between songs and leading the band to make the crowd their own.
In so many ways this band are everything that you hoped would come out of the New Acoustic Movement- songwriters not afraid to bare their soul in colourful and poetic ways without being shunned, music that captures those not-so-picture-perfect moments but does so with eloquence and style. Sure, I Am Kloot are not exactly ground-breaking, but they are evolving and moving music on. Now all we have to do is get rid of Starsailor and Dido.
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