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The last of the surviving super clubs, Fabric has remained afloat in the declining clubbing market through an innovative music policy that uncovers new talent and encourages experimentation. They have been treading even bolder ground themselves with the recent introduction of the ‘Kill Them All. . .’ night that seeks to bring the cutting edge of guitar music into the temple of its dance equivalent. The cynical may see it as an attempt to cash in on the current synthesis of dance and rock that has crossover acts like Mylo earning chart success. But the Fabric policy of uncovering new talent is still here and tonight’s line-up features a selection of hotly tipped underground acts. Though on tonight’s evidence the scout must have had a bad month. Test Icicles are the new band on every novelty-chasing, controversy-shouting music scribe’s list. The art metal scene begins here. Frankly the weak pun of their name should be enough to convince you that Test Icicles are a joke band – the work of art school charlatans or sneering jackasses. On stage in the venue’s murky room two the trio are a shambolic presence, stumbling around, smashing out ferocious but uncoordinated heavy metal from a Korg, guitars and somewhere in the back, a drum machine. They take turns screaming vacuously into the microphone while the others fall against the keyboards or get lost under the mass of their floppy hair. They are occasionally funky in the manner of Red Hot Chili Peppers –not a good thing. Their final number is an excellent two-minute piece of punk rock gabba that unfortunately goes on for twice as long, despite all their other songs being mercifully short. Test Icicles might actually become a great band (though we wouldn’t stake money on it) but performances like this will fail to convince anyone other than guffawing taste-makers who confuse wasted with authentic. Next up were Australian duo Cut Copy. While they set up the stage it’s time to check out the other action around the walkways and corridors of factory-like club. The main room has a lone female singer called Roxie, smiling along to a backing track as a stunned crowd gazes uncomprehendingly at what may be a Eurovision Song Contest regional qualifier. Later, Virgin Records’ new signing Juliet, whose album features production from the likes of Jacques LuCont, plays a similar set. It’s still Euro pap but at least she’d stand a chance of winning. Back in room two Cut Copy are providing a welcome tonic to Test Icicles with their Royksopp-lite electronic sound. They have nice tunes and it highlights how the venue’s acoustics are better suited to beats and effects than buzzing guitar noise. White Rose Movement are another whose name is being spoken of highly though perhaps more by the fashion press. They are proper proponents of an arch 80’s style, all dark angles and Teutonic paleness. The singer is trying to look like Ian Curtis though flails jerkily about the stage like twitchy Kevin Rowlands. The songs are frisky yet dull, single ‘White Rose Movement’ is like sugar-coated New Order and they aren’t helped by the sound bouncing all over the walls. Upstairs in room three the place is jammed with punters looking to escape the general dirge of the other stages and find somewhere to have a good boogie. Unfortunately where Mark Rae had earlier been playing some classic hip-hop tunes, Howie B had decided upon some brooding breaks. In the bathroom a bunch of wide-eyed, fidgety boys are wondering where the drum’n’bass room is. words: Colm Larkin |