Heart of Noise

Four gigs down, 48 to go.

This week was the first time it felt like a bit of a struggle. Going to gigs is one of my favourite things to do, right, why would it be a challenge? But after a heavy weekend, and O Emperor on Sunday (check it out below), I was slightly regretting booking my Vivian Girls tickets for Monday night. But I managed to coerce a north-of-the-river friend (yes I do have some of them) to come along for the ride. And of course, was really glad I did.

The gals were playing at the Trinity Centre in Dalston, a glorified church hall which boasts wedding parties among its past performers. No VIP area here - the bands were hanging out in a tiny room with glass panels just before the entrance into the hall, and peering out at the audience. I soon realised that punters were taking cans out of their bags with no attempt to hide it, and took a quick trip to the off-license to stock up.

Trash Kit (with former Electrelane bassist Ros Murray) and Male Bonding set the scene for a down and dirty, low-fi punk night, with some faux-riotous, almost angry moshing. One of the main instigators in the mosh pit rabble during the Male Bonding set turned out to be VV Girls drummer, Ali Koehler, who walked straight from the crowd to the stage and told us to start dancing. “Why don’t people over here dance?”

Vivian Girls delivered their blend of gentle sing-song vocals over some kick-ass garage rock in the calm, yet endearingly genuine way we’ve come to expect. The mic pick-up was really fuzzy though, meaning that the lyrics got lost in the noise. I’m all for the wall of sound, distorted reverb thing and get that garage punk ethos, but it felt like a layer was missing. It also meant that we couldn’t hear when they were talking to us between songs, so there wasn’t as much of a repartee as there could have been, and that both sides seemed to want.

But that’s what you get with this kind of dingy venue, and I wouldn’t have wanted to see them anywhere more slick. The hype around these Brooklyn hipsters means they’d be able to book bigger venues, but after we found out about their elitist attitude to non-punk audience members in this interview, it’s no surprise that they chose a community centre in the uber-alternative Dalston to make their mark.

The gig reminded me of being a teenager, going to gigs in grimy venues to see my friends’ bands and smuggling in booze I’d persuaded an older friend to pick up. With the Vivian Girls’ short, sharp, Shangri-la crooning and Ramones-esque punches, that’s exactly what it should be.