LIVE REVIEWS

Crake The Seamonsters

PRECIOUS METALS + CRAKE

Bishops’ House 15 February

In the midst of another cold and damp stretch of weather, promoters Pigeon Hands returned to Bishops’ House in Meersbrook Park with an excellent evening of warm tunes. With a peppy set, Sheffield-based Precious Metals opened for Leeds-based Crake, who delivered a soft and at times melancholic one.

Precious Metals started the evening off with strings-heavy surf pop that was buoyant and endearing, even on the sadder songs. They set the stage for the two themes of the night: a warm, inviting sound and lyrics worth catching, particularly on that one about portholes.

Crake followed up with a more laid-back and more acoustic set, which felt both soft and strong in the best way, with mesmerising instrumentals and soothing, husky vocals. The excitement in the room when the bass player picked up a trumpet midway through a song didn’t disturb the sort of effortless zen they’d created. They were enjoying themselves and the room was right there with them.

Bishop’s House is, thanks to Pigeon Hands, my favourite Sheffield venue space and this gig perfectly highlighted its best features. The intimate, almost living room feel of the small space, closely packed with a captured audience, made each song feel like a spell cast over everyone in the room.

It was that golden sort of gig where both bands appeared to be sincere, enthusiastic fans of the other, as well as of the space itself. The place is so cozy and beautiful, with old flagstone floors and low wood beam ceilings, that only on second glance did I notice the vines creeping up the mic stands. Definitely a sweet touch.

Alice Flanagan

THE SEAMONSTERS

The Harley 18 February

Going in blind to a Sheffield indie gig in the post-Arctic Monkeys age, one has a certain steely preconception of what to expect.

But every now and then a splash of colour comes along. Incongruous with a northern indie scene which recycles the boisterous, dark fruits dominated rock ‘n’ roll of the noughties, five-piece The Seamonsters enter the stage like a technicolour blast of fresh air. Elegant in their simplicity, their endlessly catchy hooks radiate the promise of the really authentic: confidence.

Frontwoman Naomi Mann’s vocals are as waifish and celestial as a teenage Kate Bush, but surrounded by the dark whirlpools of guitar work and tactile drumming that her bandmates provide, The Seamonsters morph into something more modern. Mann’s voice swims through rock and synthpop soundscapes with dexterity and playfulness, with lyrics to match. From the impossibly sweet ‘Max and Archie’, with its glittery Belle and Sebastian-esque keys, to the striking bassline of ‘How to Be Famous’, Mann uses the band’s sonic bedrock to spin social commentary through song.

Tunes like the classic Hollywood fairytale of ‘Blue Movie Baby’ (“You be my Miller and I’ll be your Monroe / Let’s hit the road before you have to go”) yearn for a bygone (or fictional?) age of romance, while the satirical verses of ‘How to Be Famous’ (“A fixed reality / So-called entertainment / Is there a sensuality / in a talentless environment?”) shame the clinical, capitalistic nature of a male-dominated industry.

This would be self-righteous sermonising if it wasn’t for a preceding - and chilling - use of voicemail samples that whisper of “brand deals and diet pills”. You get the impression that The Seamonsters are as unconvinced by the music industry as we are.

Louis Norton