Of Montreal & The Strange Death of Liberal England - London Scala - 2/6/07
4/5
By: Matt Tomiak
Portsmouth fivesome The Strange Death of Liberal England don't smile very much. Nor do they actually talk to the crowd, preferring instead to communicate via grim slogans like 'Repent, Repent' scrawled on large white pieces of cardboard, or printed onto balloons unleashed into the audience.
Taciturn they may be, but TSDOLE are a visually and sonically compelling live experience. They've got a singer with an untamed Sideshow Bob-style hairdo and a towering Perry Farrell falsetto vocal, a whirling dervish of a guitar player, indulge in instrument swapping aplenty and have some cracking songs to boot. 'We Are Bandini' is equally in thrall to noise-rock stalwarts like Neil Young & Crazy Horse and My Bloody Valentine as well as newer decibel-heavy acts like Band of Horses and Arcade Fire, whilst 'Broke & Broken Hearted' is a colossal, demoniac behemoth - like a post-rock take on 'Night on Bald Mountain.'
The members of Athens, Georgia oddballs Of Montreal appear altogether more cheerful. A gleefully ostentatious bunch, these long-serving members of their hometown's Elephant Six Collective are attired variously as a fairy, a Cossack, a nineteenth century dandy, and in the case of singer Kevin Barnes, a cross between Adam Ant, Patrick Wolf and a gay Flower Pot Man (that's if there are any straight flower pot men...).
The music, meanwhile, is an equally camp, celebratory patchwork; a psychedelic mélange of 'Ziggy Stardust'-era Bowie, The Beach Boys, The Flaming Lips, and Scissor Sisters. Occasionally Barnes' lyrics exhibit a slightly acid undercurrent; 'I Was Never Young' is a Rapture-esque punk-funk stomp accompanied by a sinister examination of childhood ('ever since I was a kid I've been a brutal basket cast') whilst the sly, T. Rex-informed 'Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider' offers a kind of affirmation for oddballs and outsiders everywhere with Barnes declaring 'to me you're just some faggy girl- and I need a lover with soul power.'
They certainly seem to have enjoyed themselves. 'London! I just wanna thank you for letting me be myself!' Barnes squeals, delighted, at the end of a delirious, enchantingly way-out evening.
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