Artery
My Elastic Eye
Lexington, London
Sunday November 27 2011

Heads down and introspective, My Elastic Eye rumble fuzzily, black shapes in the blue fog. This is a new incarnation of the band: at some point in the recent-ish past they lost their female singer and gained a male guitarist/vocalist and a drummer.

A fair exchange? Well, I dunno. What I do know is that My Elastic Eye have gone from a female-fronted synth-wave outfiit - a kind of basement-glam Ladytron - to something that looks rather more like a conventional rock band.

That's not a bad thing in itself, of course. Why, some of my best friends are conventional rock bands. But it does mean that My Elastic Eye no longer have that instant 'here comes something different' factor. Now, it's going to be all down to the music, and the conviction with which it's put across. The jury's still out on all that, though.

Tonight the band's mordant electro-rock has a downbeat, almost melancholy feel which I'm not sure is intentional. Perhaps it's the new frontman's pensive demeanour as he hunches over the mic that lends a sombre air to the proceedings. Or perhaps it's the dim blue light and the overworked smoke machine. But something seems to have drained the band's vital new wave cool. It's not like I want My Elastic Eye to merrily bounce around like Erasure or anything, but it's almost as if the band have lost some of their old mojo now the glam's gone.

Artery, on the other hand, are fully fuelled with mojo juice tonight. The story of Artery's unexpected comeback has been told many times now - how they were lured into reforming by Jarvis Cocker, the band's biggest fan back in 80s Sheffield. But I wonder if even the band anticipated their new lease of life would get as far as a new album and a whole new career as cool contenders in the twenty-first century. I wonder if any members of Artery ever experience that Talking Heads moment - when you look around and think, "Well - how did I get here?"

It might've been an unexpected trip, but Artery are here, rockin' their twenty-first century line-up - new bassist, new keyboard player, but, as ever, with frontman Mark Gouldthorpe looming in slightly scary fashion up front. All the best bands are slightly scary, of course, and Mark Gouldthorpe certainly lends Artery that essential frisson of apprehension, as he stands sternly centre-stage like a headmaster who knows exactly what we've been up to behind the bike sheds.

As the band cranks up, shovelling tension into the boiling soup of sonic moodiness that is the Artery sound, he'll suddenly stride off to the side of the stage, kick the walls a few times, then step back to the mic, expressionless all the while, just in time to deliver the next verse.

In a sense, Artery's status as old-schoolers works in their favour here. If I saw a twenty-something singer acting up like this, I'd probably be inclined to chuckle at his faux-stroppy stress-fest. But with Artery, it has the feel of being real. Real and...scary.

The band seethe and simmer through a new stuff/old stuff set. Sometimes the simmering boils over, as on 'Stalker', with its frenzied cowbell solo (I ask you - how many other bands can you think of who could include a cowbell solo and still remain cool?).

'Who's Afraid Of David Lynch' is a slow-burning agony column, the vocal rising to an impassioned yelp as the guitar and bass roll impassively along. 'The Night An Angel Was Raped' has a blazing snarl of a vocal, but the song is carried by the covulsions of the music as the band racks up yet more tension. And yet Artery can conjure this stuff out of the ether without any foolish grandstanding, without playing any kind of contrived 'angry rock band' card. It's that quality of realness again. You've either got it or you ain't.

'Afterwards' wraps things up. The bass sets up its ever-circling pattern, the guitar, drums and keyboards lock in, and all of a sudden we're into a punk-funk groove as killer as anything the Gang Of Four, or pre-metal Killing Joke ever came up with.

Mark Gouldthorpe stretches out on the floor, swigging wine and ejecting it all over himself in a fountain as the groove revolves around him. Somehow he contrives to be entirely matter-of-fact about this, and nobody's about to take issue with him tonight. Who knows if he's just showboating, or if he's really gone to some Other Place inside his head? I wouldn't dare ask, anyway. That's Artery. Are they scarily real, or really scary? I'll say this: tonight they were both at once.

Artery: Website | MySpace | Facebook

My Elastic Eye: MySpace | Facebook

For more photos from this gig,
find Artery by name here.

Read the Artery interview from Issue 8 here.

Find an Artery album review here.