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| The Lovely Eggs, The Lexington, 26 October 2016. Photo by Darren Brooker |
Midway through the Lovely Eggs’ set, as they
finish ‘People Are Twats’, two audience members hold up pre-printed signs
reading I Can’t Believe I’m Missing Bake Off For This. Although in jest it’s a handy
– if slightly confused – reminder of ‘them’: the outside world, the 15
million people watching three people make cakes fit for the Royal Family, the
twats if you will, and ‘us’: the 200 people squeezed into a
far-too-small upstairs London pub venue watching a Lancastrian couple thrash out shouty
philosophies and observations on a battered drum kit and grungy sounding guitar.
After expressing incredulity that anyone would watch such
a thing, Holly Egg reveals her and David Egg are big fans of Channel 4’s Hunted, a show in which contestants drop
out of everyday society to go underground and escape the surveillance and
monitoring of The State. Sticking it to The Man. It makes sense, the Lovely Eggs do things their own
way. Fiercely independent, for years now they’ve put out their own records,
organised their own tours, it’s their
own DIY world. “This is our life,” Holly says with a mixture of quiet pride, ridiculousness
and a hint of what-else-would-we-do?
Luckily we are free to enter the world of the Lovely Eggs
and the best way is always via their gigs where they make the most sense. Some
of their whimsical nature of yore has been replaced by a harder edged, heavier
sound over the last few years but they’ve racked up such a formidable
collection of singles their set is beginning to feel like a greatest hits. The
latest 45, the wibbly-wobbly, suitably disorienting ‘Drug Braggin’’ opens
proceedings, swiftly followed by one of the best and most harmonious, ‘Food’. New
song ‘I Shouldn’t Have Said That’ is a frustrated blast of angry punk rock; and
‘Fuck It’ encapsulates the Eggs’ well-considered design for a happy and
contented life. “Some people spend thousands going to Thailand to discover
that, you can have that advice for free”.
A large part of what makes the Lovely Eggs so endearing
is their humour and between-song revelations. We hear about the tribulations of taking
a small child on tour (it’s their son, they explain, not a random three-year
old); their capacity for cans of beer (not too impressive, although the
previous point a factor here); thoughts on developing a drinks holster to
negate the inconvenience of having to bend down to pick up a beer; and how to
make onion rings pissed as a fart at 5am.
Although every song rapturously received the atmosphere is
oddly subdued between numbers. Maybe a sign of respect and attention, not wanting to chat through a gig is commendable in my book, but the audience come to life more during ‘Allergies’
when DJ Richard Merrett, positioned above the stage with Idle Fret’s Darren
Brooker, claps along in time through the song’s opening pause. “That sounds
really good,” notices Holly, who stops the song to ask everyone to follow his
lead. They do and it works wonderfully well. London, you started it…
If the Lovely Eggs had only made 2011’s ‘Don’t Look At Me
(I Don’t Like It)’ they’d still be immortal for giving us the sheer bloody poetry of washing-line
teeth, dressing-gown noses, dog-dirt eyes, wheel-chair hearts, red-wine smiles
and the genius of sausage-roll thumbs.
They depart. No phony encore. If you aren’t too busy watching
the telly or making cakes and want a cheery and beery night out, hunt down the Lovely
Eggs.
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| Many thanks to Darren Brooker (@IdleFret) for the ace photos |
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