The Polyphonic Spree & MT Clapham Grand – 6th June 2014
Braving a trek south on the Northern Line and a rampaging army of One Direction fans heading for home, your pal Scenester found himself moved by the sprawling, symphonic band from Dallas, Texas and their like-minded friends.
Support band M.T., a Scooby gang of rock/pop mismatches provided able support, their light, synth/guitar-driven sound a perfect, wistful backdrop for their wiry, jump suited glam-rock singer to flex his vocal chords around.
FM radio-friendly, totally unpretentious DJ sets kept the positive vibe going, all Beach Boys and ELO and REM, and nobody even tried to be cooler than thou when slices of manicured pop like ‘Mr Blue Sky’ and ‘Hooked On A Feeling’ drifted out of the PA system.
An unalloyed atmosphere of peace, love and purposeful foolishness was formally ushered in by their resident Town Crier, a man whose lengthy forked beard earned him a round of applause by itself. After the solemn ceremony of cutting the graffiti’d stage banner in two was over, Dallas’ finest were revealed in their matching flared zipper coats, somewhere between monk’s habits and alien hippy blousons. The Spree’s unabashed mixing of amplified rock instruments with viola, brass and choral singing , and a quartet of Cottingley fairy-like back-up singers completed the least conventional band you are likely to see this summer.
Taking their lead from the pure, blissful pop of the late 1960’s/early 1970’s, their set kept heading up, up, upward, higher and higher, winner’s chords all the way, as they built on every song, without any concession to rest or release.
‘You Don’t Know Me’, a handclap and synth, stamping rhythmic self-improvement chant showed its strength here, and ‘Light and Day’ had a roomful of eager singers-along to swell it up, more chorus than verse and all the better for it. ‘Soldier Girl’s lyric may be a little insubstantial, but the churning, ramshackle rhythm is enough to transform the Grand’s horseshoe ground floor into a sea of bobbing heads.
Their full throttle, breathless take on Wings’ ‘Live And Let Die’ shows just how much audacity they have, and they don’t disappoint with their huge, roof-rattling treatment of this personal best (?) for post-Beatles Paul. Audience members not quite the full-on crazies typical of, say, a Flaming Lips revue, we did at least score one punter wearing a pantomime horse head, and a somewhat optimistic bloke on the balcony flashing banner messages of undying love to ‘Brunette Black Boots Singer’ in the eerie green light of his mobile phone.
Showcasing songs from their new LP, ‘Yes It’s True’, and plenty of favourites from their relatively short career, the southerners’ wild, expanding psyche-pop lunacy blasted away a week’s worth of minor grumbles and frustrations and sent us out into the night with a laugh and a smile at the sheer joy-filled ridiculousness of it all. Photos by: Erol Birsen © all rights reserved 2014
