Psicle: Go! Team

Third gig in a week is pretty good going for me, these days, and after one good one mixed I'm expecting this to be the highlight. Bought tickets months ago and rightly so as it's sold out the Shoreditch's smallish Village Underground. The Go! Team were the first band that Dabbie and I discovered together at a wonderful weekend at Bestival so they hold a special place my musical heart. I'm sporting a lovely flowery shirt which is more festival than tube commuter style and I get a fair few double takes on the Northern Line. Those on the way back or into work are probably jealous I'm going out and rubbing their noses into it. We get down to the venue fairly early to catch the support, which are often as good as or better than the main bands, see last blog, but there's a longish queue to the door. This either means that there's lots of kids eager to get in and have fun unable to buy drinks in a pub, unlikely in this case to be honest, or it will be full of overly eager muso types, more likely. As I hate queueing we retire to the Old Blue Last for a drink before waltzing in the the Village half an hour later. The crowd are hardly nippers but seem like a good mix and bunch as you'd expect for this band. All fans obviously.

Support are Glockabelle who I briefly Spotiyfied and seems like a strange French chanteuse type keyboardist. Quirky which I like. They are in fact a two piece being the front woman on keyboards and a very cool looking drummer who sports sunglasses throughout the set. Not sure why as the lighting is from behind (see poor quality photos below) but I guess looks are everything. His drumming doesn't let him down as he really goes for it thrashing the skins like they've done him some serious injury. The band have a range of styles from odd fairground type plunky keyboards which sound as if they are taking the mick but with the wild thrashing drumming sort of sounds good. Very good. There are french style chanteuse type songs with low pitched sultry singing occaisionally rising to a brief screech which seems to be a style and more eclectic synth runs sometimes verging on Rick Wakemanesque prog rock whch would not be good but again sort of works especially with that drumming. The lyrics seem to be pretty off the wall and I think mostly in French. One seems to be about a washing machine and others, well who knows probably what seems to be typically French playfulness in lyrics. After a while the drummer get's understandably tired and the singer implores him to lay down on the floor like a chat (so I can remember some of my ungraded French) and covers him with a blanket. Poor guy is obviously knackered. We are treated to a couple of songs on what I think is a stringed instrument lying flat with one played by our heroinne with metal thimbles on all her fingers showing off her amazing skills. Sounds fantastic a cross between a steel guitar and plonky piano. Soon the cool drummer is rejuventated and discarding his shirt starts banging seven shades of the proverbial out of his kit. We have a wonderful climax which includes soaring Bach like organs which is one of the few "classical" genres I enjoy maybe making me reminisce about church going days. That and French Horn music but let's not get into my Wind Band days. We are told that this is the first time they've played London and they loved it. And for us to go get the album which sounds as if is out on a strange half cassette tape half USB stick thingy. Must check that out. Although French speaking when speaking English the giirl's got a definite american twang so I wonder if they are Canadian. Must check that out but it would expain the thrashy punk rock drumming. They leave to a lot of applause. Well, leave is a bit strong, they faff about sorting out bits of the keyboards whilst the drummer searches around for his shades which fell off during one of his particularly animated sessions. Debbie nicknames him Animal from the muppets. He has that same wild style of playing. Well worth a look.

After a while and a lot of guitar tuning, well there are a lot of them, the floor gets packed and the lights go down and on come the Go! Team. Firstly without the main man who makes a dramatic leaping entry after the first song. They've 2 drummers, 2 guitarists, a bassist and singer but to be honest they all mix things up and swap instruments with one of them playing one of those long mouth organs with keys. They've lost none of their fun and edge and sound brilliant whilst jumping around the stage and exhorting us to too and to wave arms and such like nonsense. Not a lot of dancing I'm afraid but me and Debs and a few others in the crowd do our best to make some room for a bit of foot shuffling and jumping. Luckily those next to us were of a similar disposition so we had a bit of space to boogie in. The latest album is a return o the first with a great mix of indie dance hands up big back beats hip hop style nicely driven along by the two drummers. It's great to see a range of people on stage rather than the usual white males with possibly female vocalist. At times they really rock out and others bring a lovely lo fi feel to the set. Probably the best to dance to are the hip hop songs which one particular band member leads leaping about in near uncontrollable infectious excitment and it's her who gets us waving and clapping and bopping. Reminds me of old white label hip hop 7 inchers that I used to listen to at my mate Phil's back in my school days. Where are you know Phil? Still bippety bopping or settled down entirely? Anyways, the band race through the set a quite a pace and before we know it they're off. Obviously an encore is demanded and after a couple more that's our lot. They've gone down really well and makes me want to see them at a place where we can bounce around without stepping on other punters toes or trampling bags left on the floor. We take the back route to Old Street through deserted streets so unlike the thronging Shoreditch side streets, so much changed over the last 20 years, getting slightly lost in the labyrinth but it conveniently takes us past a pub which we duck into for a bit of light relief. A great night out and lovely to be out with Debbie just the two of us. What with all the waving Debbie dubs this as the Night of Hawaiiain Waves. Bouncy happy sunny music that should be outside in a sunny field, like we first saw them, rather than in a cramped club. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers. Uneventful journey home my mates will be glad to hear nothing to report.