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![]() Soho
Dolls Here we are in the Underworld again - a familiar venue, but the band on stage is not. The Space Between are a relatively straight-up alternorock outfit featuring a feisty, energetic singer in Judy Garland shoes. She provides a focus and a distinct personality for a band who, if she wasn't there, would verge dangerously close to becoming merely a bunch of bland blokes playing competent but somewhat forgettable rock. There's some nifty rhythmic elements in the sound (as a rule of thumb, the more rhythmic The Space Between become, the better they get) but I can't quite escape the notion that what we have here is a decent but workaday band being hauled out of the average zone by their singer.
And then it's Suzerain, and a sudden surge of boisterous teens in smart-casual High Street party gear alerts me to the fact that their fanbase is here in strength. Suzerain are clearly local heroes on their home turf of Staines - that west London dormitory town not hitherto massively famous for producing indie-rock contenders - and they've certainly brought their crowd in tonight. The band powers confidently into their loud, brash, grandstanding brand of eighties-indie, and the fans go wild. I stand back, trying to fathom the appeal, but alas, it eludes me. Suzerain are very good at what they do, and if you like powerhouse eighties-flavoured indie (allegedly the band are influenced by Duran Duran, but aside from a song called 'Life On Film' I can't quite see the connection) then I'm sure the Suzerain fan club will welcome you with hoots of joy. This stuff isn't for me, however. The fans see a bunch of cute guys delivering the powerpop hits of tomorrow; for me, it's a slicked-up blare with a distinctly hollow centre.
Now, here's a little story. I first discovered the Soho Dolls when I was aimlessly wandering around the web one day, in search of other stuff. I stumbled on a reference to the band which claimed they sounded like 'a cross between David Bowie and The Damned'. That sounded good - if a little implausible - to me, so I went along to the next Soho Dolls gig I could find. And I discovered that, in fact, the band doesn't sound like David Bowie and/or The Damned at all. But they do sound rather good, and that's why I'm here again tonight, down the front as the Dolls rev up their electro-glam-punk-whatever machine. Trying to pin the Soho Dolls down to a neat comparison or two is almost impossible, so let's not try. Instead, allow me to mention the thumping glammy rhythms, the big bad guitar chords, the neatly-interjected electronic squiggles and the insistent, pay-attention-or-else vocals that combine to make the Soho Dolls sound. Maya fronts the band with lots of personality and very little in the way of clothes; Toni, wearing his Dickensian raggamuffin cap, keeps the glam-guitar churning. 'Prince Harry' is an irreverent romp, 'Ring OF Fire' - a tribute, we're told, to Johnny Cash - sounds rather good as adjusted to fit the Dolls' sound. Naturally, the final tune is 'Stripper', and if I was to name one song which encapsulated what this band does, this would be it. All the essential elements are in there, even down to the splendidly silly 'da-da, da da-da, da-da, da da-da' chant in the chorus. Let's try a neat comparison after all. David Bowie and The Damned? Nah, that doesn't work. How can we sum up the band's boy-girl combination of big guitar and electronics? Try this: the Soho Dolls are like a cross between Hanoi Rocks and Ladytron. There, put that on the web. Oh, I think I just have.
Essential links: Mechanical Cabaret: Website | MySpace The Space Between: Website | MySpace For more photos from this gig, find the bands by name here. |
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Page credits: Review,
photos and construction by Michael Johnson. |