Le Tigre / Erase Errata / Kaito - London Astoria - 5/4/04
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
It's quite a sight - just how can so many people look so damn similar? Not in a punk-rock, rebellious kind of sense, as it's all rather smart, even considerably fashionable in its way, but there is something a touch off-putting about a clan of hundreds who all share this pale-skinned, dark-haired cross between a porcelain doll and a Hello Kitty toy appearance, especially when you're one of the few present who isn't one of 'them'. Oh, and they're girls...
Girls. Hundreds upon hundreds of girls. In the audience, on the stage, behind the merchandise-stands... for once, amidst the usual Astoria grime, there's a bright feminine presence to be reckoned with. Oh, but enough with the 'Whoa; they're, like, not men...' nonsense: you probably knew that already - and certainly should know that it matters not one bit. The bands, all the bands, are brilliant.
Kaito are pop in a sharp, yelping disguise. They write fantastic, insanely catchy, simple songs and then douse them in squeals and bursts of haphazard noise to create a distinguishing trademark sound that lies somewhere between Elastica and radio fuzz. Their demeanour, save for the guy stage-right who bashes his guitar all over the place without a care in the world for where it goes or perhaps even what sounds it makes, is rather reserved, singer Nikki standing always statue-still even when belting out some enthrallingly energetic stop-start stutter-rock. Tonight's rendition of 'Should I' is a perfect example of just that, but so far the description has betrayed the depth of songcraft herein - just one listen to the quirky, radiant weirdness of 'Try Me Out' should fill in the rest of the picture. This is a chance to get genuinely elated - don't pass it up.
JD from tonight's headliners Le Tigre is eager to acknowledge that she counts Erase Errata as her 'favourite band in the world', and it's not difficult to see why. They leave the pop to one side and just concentrate on shrieking, shredding guitars and off-kilter, but nonetheless movement-inducing, rhythms to being the fun. The one time they come close to convention is on a rather sweet interpretation of a poem by Yoko Ono (yeah, it's that kind of evening), but the blatant melody tag isn't one that really suits them. 'Marathon' is where it's at - all about trying to serrate your preconceptions of what a funky track should sound like by having every note, every strike of every drum (and what with two kits on stage, there are a few), sound like someone poking at your ears with a pair of scissors. They look slapdash, chaotic and geeky, and sound it too. Live, there's even more chance than there is on record for Erase Errata to sound so very wrong, and it truly is a wonder that it's still marvellously invigorating rather than just a complete mess.
What keeps tonight on its toes is the amount of common ground shared between the bands being just enough so as it always flows, but still leaves apparent enough some stark differences to ensure that there's not once the threat of overlap. So, with Le Tigre, there's the both pop and intrigue, but very little messing. Just run on, wave your arms about frantically, press a few buttons and start dancing like an idiot.
That's what they do, so we follow suit. The stuff we're dancing to is arguably some of the most vital underground pop music created in recent memory, the only thing stopping it from gaining wider appeal being its will to dare to introduce political slants and an uncommon, high degree of intelligence to the pounding drum-machines and synthesiser squall.
True, Kathleen Hanna (incidentally, via numerous howls, shrieks and piercing wails tonight proving that she is one of the finest female vocalists alive) will indeed introduce songs with dialogue along the lines of 'this is for all the feminist bitches in the house' (which is, well, most people here), but they can convey their own politics better than your scribe, so we'll leave all mentions of feminism and lesbianism here. It shouldn't make a blind bit of difference, as Le Tigre are a guitar-thwacking, megaphone-wielding, keyboard-pounding, f**king great band. The tunes are colossal regardless of topic: 'FYR' a wonderful rallying call; 'Keep On Livin'' shaking each and every body part via some rather huge drums; and 'My My Metrocard' an enthralling take on the failings of the last New York mayoral campaign, even though it would be just as crucial if it was about train travel after all. Heck, even false starts to the usually marvellous 'Decaptacon' can't dissuade our blissful enjoyment.
Le Tigre, you wore us out. Take note, Blair - if all politics sounded as good as this, you wouldn't be half as worried about low turnout come next election. These ideals danced us to exhaustion.
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