Their Time

Yeah Yeah Yeahs/The Locust/Devendra Banhart, Birmingham Carling Academy, April 12 2004.

The gig's already just started as I stroll into the venue, and there's a guy up on stage on his own with freaky hair and crazy guitar moves. I'm assuming that this was the advertised Devendra Banhart but with no prior knowledge of his stuff I frankly have no idea. Takes some guts to stand up to a packed venue on your lonesome, either that or you have to be nuts (and that seems a possibility the way he keeps singing into his guitar). Some of the crowd are really getting into it, but some noisy guys by the bar begin barracking. Me, I quite like the cut of his jib and even forgive him for that lingering threat in every song that the guitarwork is going to mutate into 'Love Spreads' by The Stone Roses. He dedicates his penultimate song to George W Bush (I can't remember the title but it's not very complimentary).

And then, before you could say, getting swarm in 'ere, innit?, on come The Locust, causing a buzz with their primitive insect bodysuits reminiscent of Peter Parker's prototype costume in the wrestling scene in Spiderman. The Locust perform short bursts of atonal thrash noise that would make most deathmetal tunes seem positively life-affirming. Large sections of the crowd really don't like them, and shout and hurl things. The Locust seem to feed off this, and shout and hurl things back. The drummer pukes into a plastic beercup and threatens to throw it into the crowd on several occasions before pouring it over his own head. They save their best to last, a distorted electronic racket as they stand fronting out the jeering crowd for ten astonishing minutes. The Locust may be a band of dubious musical merit, and the 40-year-old in me wants to swat them around the ear, send them up to their rooms and tell them not to bother coming down until they're in a better mood, but they do provide a fantastic (amphi)theatre, and the energy of all that mutual hate is creating a crackling atmosphere.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs produced Parallax View's Album Of The Year with their debut 'Fever To Tell' back in 2003, so luckily for Dead Kenny most of their set is a crowd-pleasing selection from this record, rather than a generous smattering of new choons as had been rumoured. I guess it goes without saying that Karen O is the centre of attention, a whirling dervish of fizzing energy for the most part, but a still, dramatic figure for the showstopper 'Maps' where she invites the crowd to speak to the hand as she urges 'Wait/They don't love you like I love you' and nobody dares (or would even want) to argue. Emerging for the encores with a scarlet superhero getup of her own, she looks completely ridiculous and utterly fuckable at the same time. Twelve months on from the release of their debut album, it says much for the progress of Yeah Yeah Yeahs in that period that one-time anthem 'Our Time' from their first ep barely seems to register with half the (predominantly young, white, priveliged) crowd. Its now 'Maps' that points the band toward a bold new future.

Related: Karen O spotted canoodling with Spike Jonze. (news via whatevs.org)

Boneyboy was also in attendance.

Thanks to music fanzine Superstition for providing the Karen O picture from last night's gig.