I once chatted to an American who bemusedly asked, “What is it with you guys and your darn weird band names? Amazing music, but Wet Leg, Dry Cleaning… why are they all so strange and mundane?” The latest in that lineage is , who, like the aforementioned bands, luckily make pretty dang good tunes. Formed in lockdown by and swapping tunes over the internet, they’ve gone from a handful of arresting singles to a Fat Possum deal and one of the best shows at this year’s . Now they’re on night two of a UK tour, playing a sold-out Thekla, Bristol’s much-loved boat venue, with their self-titled debut album barely three weeks old.
The crowd is gloriously mixed, which Bristol does better than most. People of all ages are welcome in its live music spaces without judgement or a hint of feeling out of place, and Wednesday night is no exception. Nobody bats an eyelid. First-year students share the floor with crusties and punks well into their sixties, while a healthy midsection of old indie heads fills the gaps, as you’d expect.
Support comes from Turnspit, the Leeds duo of vocalist Jess Clark and producer George Barwick, who make synthy, avant-garde pop. Entirely self-produced, they’re part of a growing wave of electronic-leaning Northern bands. They play side-on, facing each other, never really engaging with the audience. It’s stark and oddly theatrical for just two people, and the minimalism works just about. Barwick is a joy to watch, running the beats and reshaping everything on the fly with remarkably quick hands: a pedal flicked here, a pad controller struck there. The mood is vibey and spooky in places, with flashes of Bicep, which suits the season.
It’s a neat contrast to what follows. Where Adult DVD have a northern synth-punk swagger, Turnspit are atmospheric, engaging and cinematic in places, and they perhaps don’t get the room riled up for the headliners. Still, it’s one of the more interesting support slots I’ve seen this year, and a new name very much worth seeking out. Their recent singles, ‘Have A Heart’ and ‘Do I Know You?’, are both worth a spin.
Adult DVD themselves keep things taut: 55 minutes, 13 songs, not a wasted second, which is about right for a band with one album to their name. It’s a debut that fuses hook-laden indie with pulsing groove, 90s acid house influence and an undeniable sense of humour, and by the fourth song the crowd are firmly onside, the sway and bounce creeping in. I’ve rarely seen so many synthesisers on one stage: six players, a small mountain of keyboards and not a hint of restraint. The mad keyboard crunches and beats sound huge. From the cramped, industrial-looking balcony I can look down and watch each track land, and the darkened bowels of Thekla suit this music perfectly.
The whole band looks like they’re having the time of their lives, getting stuck in with big smiles. The MVP, though, is drummer Jonathan Newell, who holds the chaos in check. With so many secondary beats and keyboard lines flying about, he keeps everything anchored and stops it derailing, which is seriously impressive. ‘Cowboy On Aisle Three’, which Hanson dreamed up in Lidl while imagining going nuts to escape the big shop, goes down an absolute belter alongside ‘Real Tree Lee’, and it gets hot and sweaty on the boat very quickly.
Everyone leaves with a goofy grin, a proper jolt of exhilaration for a school night. Adult DVD excel live, even more so than on record, and they’re well worth seeing in the flesh. Just another wacky, loud, fresh UK outfit we should be proud of, and keep producing.
