What do critics have against posh folk in rock ‘n’ roll? The recent witch-hunt against the Etonian indie kids seems to miss the point – if you got rid of the privileged set there’d be nobody to man the presses at your favourite music rags. Good to hear some clipped vowels, and vast vocabularies on show tonight then.
First up, Dundee street kids The Brogues. A shoe-in for success (geddit?) these troopers show that the Tayside production line of chart-bound indie kids shows no sign of slowing down. Razor sharp riffs, barbed quips masquerading as lyrics – all these lads need is a deal and they’ll be clogging up the indie run-down on a chart show near you. Of course, they do nothing to change the idea that all Dundee bands sound exactly the same, but that hasn’t held the rest back.
No idea where The Foxes reside, but presumably their den is somewhere near Buckingham Palace – at least, if their accents are anything to go by. Awfully polite fellows, they seem far too nice for all this rockin’ and-a rollin’, and no doubt have day jobs in financial establishments. Adept musicians, The Foxes stretch things out a little, mixing The Libertines with Dire Straits. Yep, that’s right, ‘Money For Nothing’, Mark Knopfler, the whole shebang. One for the polite, middle aged man in us all.
Headliners Yeti come with considerable pedigree. Bass player John Hassal plucked the four string for The Libertines, and hence the room is filled with folk expecting a time for heroes. While Yeti do their best, it is impossible to recreate the “once in a generation” feeling that spawned the careers of Messrs Barat and Doherty. Sure, Yeti have the tunes, their scratchy take on The La’s legacy having its enjoyable moments but ironically, post-Libertines, that just isn’t enough. A lack of stage presence, and a touch of repetitiveness, means that the set is lacklustre, and although the crowd seem happy there’s an emptiness to the occasion that lingers on into the morning.