From the dusk-red haze clambering above the full-capacity mass gathered tonight come forth four figures. They look not dissimilar to the guy you just saw downing shots at the bar, all clad in retro Adidas get-up and t-shirts so bright they’re usually custom made for spotting roadside workies at 4am. A tooth-trembling bass rumbles across the venue and an ear-piercing shriek is ignited. Lights. Cowbell.� Action! The Underground launch into ‘`Wake Up’; In a haze of strobes, flat lager showers the venue ceilings into an upsurge of skinny-fit limbs and acid-tab T’s. Although only a handful of shows into their first tour proper, The S.U seem to have upped their game remarkably.� ‘`Raise The Alarm’s piercing synths come on like NY punk-funkers Radio 4 chasing The Music with a Moog-bayonet , whilst ‘`Borders’ trades lighters with glowsticks for most affecting live song. The staggering volume is enough to rupture ones senses, but combined with their endorphin rushing blasts of Casio punk, the Underground casually erupt a Hacienda-style hoedown. The new-rave heads up front pogo with ‘`small-box-little-box’ abandon, whilst security begin to twitch over your more common array of Gallagher mulleted teens jumping rowdily. Singer Craig Wellington leaps between Strat-stabs of angular noise and grooving a new puncture into his oddly hefty Cowbell. To merely dismiss them as new-rave-nu-funk-now-pigeonholed newcomers would be wrong though. Sunshine Underground are arguably far from perfect on record, but their live setting seems to capture the spirit astoundingly. If their debut ‘`Raise The Alarm’ conjured up claustrophobic angst to the ‘`nth degree then live they seem to catch that beam of sun at the end of a rain-drenched British overcoat. A mere half hour later they’ll down tools with no encore. Presumably wiping the neon glowstick-water from their brows, content with now being one of the must-see live acts of ‘`07. After all ,the Sunshine can stay Underground for so long.
<a href=”[email protected]”>Clarke Geddes</a>