Flouncing into tonight’s gig, things look promising when I hear ‘Cadillac’ by Hot Chocolate in the pre-event watering hole. A vaguely – not that vaguely – sleazy hymn to misbehaviour it’s actually the second appearance in a few hours. Previously it was Stereo Total’s loungecore version – reviewed elsewhere in this esteemed organ; this time it is the startlingly good reworking by Scotland’s own Graeme Clark, aka The Revenge.
This can only bode well. Crazy P deliver good grooves all of their own, displayed with pert fecundity across their new album Walk Dance Talk Sing. Let the waggling commence…
Inside the estimable basement venue the band are memorably described by an accomplice as Hot Chip fronted by Cleopatra. And that’s not far off in some respects – though they are truer to the form than the Chippers. Vocalist and front person Danielle Moore is a striking figure stalking around the venue. She’s either concealing massive heels or is prodigiously tall. Hard to say in the gloom. There’s something of the Siouxsie Sioux about her once she glides up in front of us. Not in the way she moves but in the utter commitment and the command of the stage. It’s mesmerising but also welcoming.
But this is not a solo show. And what les Crazies collectively dish up is thumping grooves with a Balearic soul. The thump is all the more impressive as the drums are live and the present incumbent has only been on the stool for two days. Where the previous tenant was mislaid is left in the ether. They’re massive down under; perhaps he’s gone Walkabout? I do hope he hasn’t exploded, Spinal Tap style. Condolences if he has.
This is pure music – but not in the least inaccessible. Each and every track makes ya wanna dance that’s for sure. Whether it’s the slow, pervy grinders offering lascivious pleasures or the truly marvellous ‘Witch Doctor’ – a melding together of a straight up 303 acid squelch that pleases the purists like me and a simple yet irresistible vocal with the lightest touch of Rodgers style, scratchy disco guitar. All is laid bare.
‘Witch Doctor’ on its own encapsulates the evening in a way. You could describe it as pop house. But that way undersells things. Way undersells. That label would put me off as an uninitiated invitee. For whilst throwing a party open to all, there is nothing to offend the more po-faced elements of clubland – eg, me. This has solid, quality percussion, bass, synths and vocals all over it. It’s joyful but it is also has pedigree. Serious pedigree. And that’s one hell of a hard trick to pull off.
There’s also a stylish hollowness and haunting element to tracks like ‘Cruel Mistress’ from the new album. It’s ethereal in a way that almost recalls the late lamented Electribe 101. A bluesy lament whilst also seducing.
Despite not being completely full tonight – bad, Glasgow, bad – it’s a sweaty affair and the crowd lap it up and wave their collective arses about. One young lady does so with such vigour she ends up on stage, sprawled at Cleopatra’s feet. A friendly nudge by the bass player and she sashays back into the melting pot.
Crazy P are a great band. Formidable really.
Take them seriously… and head to the dancefloor pronto. ‘Tis the only reasonable response.
As a post script…I appear to have written “Poland!” in the notes for the evening. Even for me that’s incongruous and no amount of musing can reveal the reasoning behind it. There we go, kids – that’s what writing in the dark whilst draped in sweat does to you.