A deserted Oxford on Tuesday, its people dulled and weary by the aching tediousness of the World Cup (not to mention the aching tediousness of the vuvuzela that soundtracks it- a monotonic monstrosity which seems to have undeservedly become a symbol of pan-African solidarity), seemed an unpropitious place and time to host a worthy charity gig, but any worries about the turnout were quickly banished. The bill boasted two of the finest new acts the town has to offer, and it was to their credit and that of a cheerful, game audience, that the evening was such a success.
Spring Offensive share with Radiohead a sort of transcendent misanthropy- a skewed, pessimistic view of humanity delivered in the form of compelling, ecstatic choruses. Tonight’s set saw them playing four outstanding songs back to back, with ‘I Found Myself Smiling’ and ‘A Let Down’ particularly strong. Lucas Whitworth is a first-rate frontman, gangly and awkward but a fine singer in that anguished, Crispin Hunt style and equally importantly, a gifted communicator with the audience. His mock-disparaging of his bandmates’ singing was both funny and disingenuous enough not to provoke intra-band ructions, with any luck. Indeed, Spring Offensive have grasped that acts such as Grizzly Bear and Fleet Foxes have raised the bar with regard to ensemble singing. These days, you can’t just be a brilliant drummer; you have to be a brilliant drummer who can sing a decent falsetto. Both musically and vocally, SO have all the necessary firepower. How they deploy it is going to be a fascinating question in the coming months, if tonight’s monster fourteen-minute epic closer is any indicator.
During the course of Scarlett in the Wilderness’s set, The Cellar improbabably began to take on the appearance of Glastonbury, with girls perched precariously on boyfriends’ necks in order to get a glimpse of the uber-corseted, outrageously bewigged, gypsy-cabaret wonders. Indeed, there was a danger at one point that singer Hannah Murphy’s headdress (which made Marie Antionette’s look dowdy) was about to punch a hole in the ceiling. Fortunately, there is much more to this band than camp: the whirling, dancing youthfulness of the music is immensely likeable, with Flora Curzon’s effortless violin breaks drawing gasps from the front of the crowd. Their own material, grounded in Klezmer and East European traditions, is far superior to their occasional cover version; tonight a tune by the Decembrists was delivered as a piece of C and W stodge, fortunately washed away by the rambunctious ‘Balalaika’ from their excellent ‘Edible but Suspicious’ album. Rumour has it that the band are going on hiatus for a while- some nonsense about getting it together in the country. Say it’s not so, boys and girls, not after we’ve all started to go doolally over you! For a vision of the future without this brilliant band, check the football scores: Ivory Coast 0 Portugal 0.