Wednesday, 25 May 2011
THE LOVELY EGGS at the PRINCE ALBERT OFFLINE CLUB, BRIXTON
Of all the things I’ve posted on here, the most successful in terms of response has been The Lovely Eggs video “Don’t Look At Me (I Don’t Like It)”. Everyone loved it. Others posted it on their sites and blogs, cynical aging indie heads became misty-eyed, parents claimed their kids sing it in the playground, even punters in northern soul clubs told me how brilliant they thought it. It just goes to show the universal appeal of a noisy racket with daft lyrics and a catchy tune.
Further proof of The Lovely Eggs charm was in evidence on Friday night. Holly (singing and guitaring, David speaking and drumming) stepped on to a dark stage in a pub full of non-paying customers, most of whom didn’t know who they were (nor care), and immediately hooked everyone with the tone-setting “People Are Twats”.
They plundered LPs If You Were Fruit and Cob Dominos, scattering a ramshackle mix of what old fuddy-duddies might call “proper songs” and random nursery rhyme nonsense like the 13 seconds of “Muhammed Ali and His Friends”. The albums make a wonky kind of logic but here Holly helpfully explains what some songs are about: mostly the boredom and drudgery of shit jobs like working for a print shop or local newspaper. “I Want To Fall Off My Bike Today” chuggingly repeats the title for a minute and was inspired by a friend breaking his collar bone and getting six week off work, so they wrote about it. “There wasn’t much more to say”, says Holly. Songs can start sweetly sung sing-song style but soon switch to a grungey Sonic Youth/Hole temper tantrum. New single “Fuck It” burns slowly then catches fire in the brain like that poor woman in the stroke advert. Others – some even without swearing - are instantly memorable odes to unlikely subjects like beef bourguignon or collecting snails.
The whole set was impossible not to love. I’ve not smiled at a gig as much since I first saw Eddie Argos use his microphone lead as a skipping rope in Art Brut. They aren’t a comedy act as such; just naturally funny and deliver madcap songs with unexpected comic twists and simple truths. They received a well-deserved and genuine encore for their trouble. Not the usual one bands give themselves because two mates clapped either, but one from strangers desperate for more. “We don’t get that at home in Lancashire. That’s why we’re on tour – we’ve been run out of town”.