The Kills - London Metro - 24/5/02
3/5
By: Toby L
'HOTLY-TIPPEDDD'... 'HOTLY-TIPPEDDD'...
Uh-oh - it's that time again. Yup, that fearful sound of the hype-cannon firing out yet more bait to A&R execs and music-journalists to take note and observe the latest of the underground acts currently parading London's trendy performance-stages to further their name and cause.
The Kills comprise of an ex-member of ye olde indie-purveyors Scarfo, and are a boy-girl two-piece... BUT YOU JUST WAIT RIGHT THERE! Yes, we said 'boy-girl two-piece', but that doesn't for one minute constitute the arrival of Britain's answer to The White Stripes. More likely, the emergence of VV and Jamie (AKA Hotel) is that of a unique, entirely fuzzy and rather intriguing, guitar-based duo with an image that's as sassy as their low-slung, dirty and growling sound. OK, got it?
Actually, however, like the Stripes, they don't have a bass as such, instead preferring to melt their heavily-distorted upper guitar-strings into the rhythmic bases for each track, in addition to the continual chattering of a pre-programmed drum-machine in the corner of the stage. Jamie himself, is a viable and distinctive musician, whilst frontwoman VV, complete with windswept hair covering her potential vision, is the most wicked example of the female-species, dancing sleekly alongside her mic-stand, sipping her vice of choice from an elegant champagne-glass, whilst sounding like PJ Harvey in her most angry moments when the pair's music perks up. And that's one possible downfall to their organisation - the tempo-variation.
Immediately creeping onto the stage in London's Metro Club tonight, rather than delivering a branching-out and inclusive upbeat belter - as they'll go on to perform mid-set - they offer an official slow one, creating a musical slumber that occasionally drifts along more than it soars and lurches rather than leaps. Still, when the lo-fi ramblings of a track presumably entitled 'It's Been A Long Time Coming' - they don't do song-announcements, ya see - reverberates out of the PA, there's a mellow ambience and sexy downtrodden moodiness that's only bettered by the aforementioned 'quickies' or set-closing 'last song' (as we're informed of its name), which involves VV sucking on the end of a particularly glamorous rolled-up cigarette.
At present, The Kills are, indeed, an exciting new prospect for the future. But, please, don't get too excited too soon - let them reach the potential that they've been granted to grasp; hopefully in the meantime, though, a few more performances like this will provide them the chance to reach the grand places that people are anticipating them to tread in.
Artists in this article: The Kills
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