The Hidden Cameras & My Latest Novel - London Union Chapel - 4/10/06
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
Tom H: "Why are they being so quiet?"
Toby L: "Well, it's a church, innit..."
TH: "Yeah, but... wasn't God responsible for the big bang, possibly the loudest noise of all time? A noise so loud it started time itself? And if you believe in determinism in such a way that all things happen only as a consequence of the will of an omnipotent deity, isn't God himself in fact directly responsible for all sound, inclusive of the likes of Wolf Eyes, Mogwai and anyone else who makes what some would wrongly deem an ungodly racket? Couldn't they therefore afford to turn it up a bit?
TL: "Erm..."
Don't get me wrong. When I walked in to the Union Chapel, it instantly became my favourite venue in London, if not the world. I'd heard talk of the way it could lift a band in the way that a sunset slot at a festival always does, but wasn't prepared for the effect that sitting in such a holy setting, with my backside parked on a pew of all things in utter silence with a congregation of others, would have. It's a building so beautiful that it'd make bad bands sound good. Good bands, like My Latest Novel, sound subsequently great.
Now, I'm not willing to assign greatness to them in all settings, only here. What they certainly are is a good band, this much is clear to see - they're twee and cute and bumbling and soft and they'll call me lazy for labelling them Belle and Sebastian / Camera Obscura soundalikes, but that's what they are. Get over it people, those are lovely bands, and I'm saying you share some of that loveliness. When they're in this church though, they soar, their delicate sound takes on an ethereal quality because of the silence we feel we're all forced to observe and their every move seems worth paying attention to because they're doing it in front of a ruddy baptismal font. If they can only play venues this charming for every show, they'd be world beaters.
I know from prior live experience and exposure to their most recent 'Awoo' LP that The Hidden Cameras are a great band no matter what environment you indulge them in. Imagine, then, how great they sound in the house of the Lord. And whilst like My Latest Novel (I admit that I can't really get over the fact that they have a very bad name) they seem bizarrely unaware of my argument that God would in fact really enjoy noise (let's face it, hymns are lame) and play a very soft, reserved set, they do at least sing that gay song about wee and ask us to stand up and dance in the pews a bit. I'm of the opinion that irreverence here is fine. For those that believe in God, you'd have to admit that he's big enough to look after himself. And if you're a determinist, you have to hold that God was the author of 'Jerry Springer The Opera' too. Determinism is stupid. 'Jerry Springer...' was great.
Back to the fragile matter in hand, that of the Hidden Cameras and their gently swaying frontman Joel Gibb, their reverently brushed drums and dippily dancing string section. The only point to them and their craft is melody, and the sound here, like everything else (inclusive of them selling cider at a reasonable price upstairs - I love church!) is perfect. The signs for continued greatness abound too - 'These Eyes', 'Death of a Tune' and the brilliantly slapdash 'Awoo' are all taken from the latest album, and are three of their best by a mile. The word 'Awoo' acts like my 'Amen' tonight.
God's only complaint, like mine, would be that it wasn't loud enough. He requests the presence of Lightning Bolt at one of his many places of worship, and pronto.
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