With the majority of this year’s next big things list packed out with female fronted electro outfits- Little Boots, Lady Ga Ga, La Roux… I, like many a music fan, was left wondering where my annual fix of new Indie rock music would be coming from this year. Regarded by many as a now debunked and generic sub genre of music, following its recent bludgeoning by the likes of the Pigeon Detectives, it could be argued that their simply is not any need or room in 2009 for it. However, over the past twelve months a four piece have been making a lot of noise in Camden’s last bastion of punk rock, the Hawley Arms. London’s the Brute Chorus have played relentlessly in the celeb friendly bar, and have signed to its own record label. Already overlooked by some critics I felt it was time to flick the spotlight on to them, as tonight they made the very short journey down the road to the equally fitting Bar Fly.
The upstairs of the venue is an experience to behold itself. The décor is at best described as dingy, with black washed walls, and a lowly 3ft long bar serving cans of Red Stripe at the back- it is certainly not the Albert hall. The room is crammed with art students and local Camdenites, one of which is disconcertingly sporting a gas mask, all vying for their own quarter of the beer soaked floor. All concerns are quickly gone as the band quietly sneaks out on to the stage, escaping the attention of many members of the crowd, and begin hand clapping in unison. Not before long the pounding beat of ‘She Was Always Cool’ drops in and all attention is turned to the stage.
Front man James Steel is as enigmatic as his moustache is ostentatious. In a frenzied fashion he continually traverses the small stage guitar held in hand, and microphone at the ready. Their folk rockabilly infused with an abundance of energy plays well, and is a refreshing balm to the overproduced and manufactured bands making waves already this year. Unfortunately this seems to be their demise. Their penchant for eschewing the limelight, and using dissembling chord sequences and cryptic narrative lyrics, means the band does not sit neatly within the current scene; as a result they are often disregarded as ‘Weird Indie’.
It is not until seen live that you really get an understanding of what this band is all about. Songs like, ‘Château’ and ‘Nebuchadnezzar’, which on record sound like the illegitimate bastard child of the Corals debut LP conceived in the toilets of the Old Blue Last. Only really make sense live, when you witness the pure amount of energy and gusto the band apply to each foot stomping moment, they take on a new shape and become incredibly enticing and infectious. So much so, that the band’s efforts on stage are duly reciprocated by the crowd who can not help but get involved and add to the frantic atmosphere of the set. With no mentions of death, misery or whatever White Lies seem to be singing about, and with out any snyth trickery, the Brute Chorus manage to create a sound and an identity as original and appealing as any other new band.
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