They know what love is .....
IN THE centre of the obtuse triangle that has pointy bits called Bob Dylan and Mr Mister and New Order – this is a Bermuda-sized triangle – there was an unimagined wasteland. It is now filled by the majestic and stomping beauty that is The War On Drugs.
If TWOD had employed Ladyhawke on a second keyboard,
TWOD are so enjoyable it's hard to be critical. Within the opening few minutes they go all Tom Petty meets Supertramp - the sound is wondrous. People smile, people melt. But at around 10.45pm it starts to cloy a little.
Guitars rule with TWOD - not in the bucket-load Band of Horses style - but theirs is a jaw-achingly pleasing loudness and intricacy. The bassy backbone is firmly 70s and 80s electro-sensibility, but there’s special warmth, perhaps like a Floridian open-top road trip with Britney Spears covering The Eagles’ greatest hits.
On record, the polish and production is part of the charm. At the Electric Ballroom, we are sucked into the aura of a new Mid-Rock. That’s not a bad thing; this is great music, but some edge is missing.
The new album gets a fairly full outing, as does the Future Weather EP. Nothing’s bad. For one number, frontman Adam Granduciel invites a (not so!) novice guitarist on stage. He strums three chords and practically joins the band for five minutes. It’s a very, very happy gig!
You have to love TWOD. They make it comfortable to lose yourself in a kind of Guitar Hero reverie while standing among complete strangers in a smoky darkness. You may wonder, from time to time, if Mr Granduciel is in fact morphing into Lou Gramm.
On the way home, you could be forgiven for humming some Bruce Hornsby jingle-jangle or Big Country squall. Their cover of The Waterboys’ ‘
If you were at this show, let us know what you thought on our MESSAGEBOARDS
Nigel Watts