SPONGE

First Impressions From The Newbie In Town

Brixton was alive, and also maybe half-dead, when I stepped out of its tube station for the first time in seven years. The resident station steeldrummer, whom I had been so looking forward to hearing, was evidently no more. But incense still burned and leather bags still piled up along the Electric Avenue market. Incredible hoards of people still queued for buses along the high

A swift pint on an empty stomach at the Trinity Arms put me right on course for the night ahead - a space-themed, three banded bonanza, hosted by The Close Encounter Club at Brixton House. Cowboyy, Balancing Act and Japanese Television were on the line up.

Brixton House is huge. You really can’t miss it. It is finding the gig WITHIN the venue where one may run into some issues. We found it with practical-joke-level difficulty. The security guard on the door told us there was no guest list. The guy selling merchandise for the very gig we were trying to find was baffled when we asked him for directions. “To where?” He said, with genuine inquisition.

After passing the final test of the intense security check (respect), we burst excitedly into the gig room, which was empty, and had the air of a posh school gymnasium, dressed up for prom. With padded floors that made me want to cartwheel, it even had that new venue smell, extremely rare in London.

Back out at the bar I spoke to a guy who had written a concept album about the end of the world, which he hadn’t been able to write the ending of. We sipped signature pink gin and rum cocktails until the first band were due to play.

“You been searched already?” We nodded earnestly. “Alright get in there.”

The stage design was very polished. Clearly a lot of effort had gone into the placement of the plants, the backdrop of fairy lights and neon signs. Otherworldly green and purple smoke hissed from the corners and formed in plumes above our heads. It felt like the stage in a celebrity guest talk show.

Cowboyy were incredible, and absolutely my new favourite band. This guitarist was working so hard it seemed like it was barely holding together. Somebody described them as “mathy” but it didn’t feel mathy because it didn’t feel calculated. It felt like a cartoon character swinging precariously but effortlessly along some monkey bars.

Their drummer persistently kicked 32kg of stage weights off the little platform on which the kit was poised. The weights were patiently pushed back by the organisers in the interludes between songs, which added to the TV performance feel of the room.

The crowd were giving a polar opposite energy. When the songs stopped it went awkwardly quiet, like junior high school prom, nobody knew what to say to each other, everybody too selfconscious to dance. At this point it felt like WE were the aliens, and that we’d captured a human band to perform for us, but it was so different from our usual forms of entertainment that we didn’t know how to act.

Their set concluded as close to the end of the fretboard your fingers can get without your hands touching, and I honestly could not wipe the grin off my face.

Balancing Act provided a very different, indie, verging on classic rock vibe for their self-proclaimed first gig south of the river. There were a lot of tender moments in this set, the kind that make you go “awwh”. Kai whistled his way through The Saddest Song I Ever Did Write amongst the crowd and when he took to the stage again you could hear the smile in his voice.

Throughout the set I didn’t focus on any one band member more than the others. They were amalgamated. It all just worked as a coagulated and familiar sound.

Suddenly we were two bands down, most of the way through the gig. With the next round of space juice I added a bag of crisps to the order. Shared with Sam of course, who had purchased the round, the energy of seven crisps was enough to send us flying, back into the extraterrestrial reality TV, high school prom, retro comic-book convention gig room for Japanese Television.

In terms of an eclectic line-up these guys had it all; a sea shanty guitarist, a bassist who innovatively had her entry wristband on her ankle, nerdyass-lookin keyboardist and the classic drummer, who looks like he’s smiling at you but he’s actually just wincing. No vocalist.

Their kinda surfy, kinda Doorsy and very heavy sound was immersive. This band made me put on my sunglasses. Conversely to Balancing Act, I couldn’t decide where to focus my attention at all during this set, and honed in on each member in turn, getting a different experience with each change of gaze. Not that it was in any way a competition, but I did leave the gig resonating on a bass player’s unique ability to drive people into a frenzyround and round and round - louder and louder - circular riffs.

With a 9am start in the office looming uncomfortably close I bounced from Brixton with a relief to be returning north of the river, but a resolve to venture down more frequently, particularly on the promise of another epic Close Encounter Club line up.