Marking the conclusion of Pitchfork London week, and spread across five venues in Dalston, this evening’s lineup is an embarrassment of riches - especially if your currency of choice is hotly-tipped buzz bands. We manage to watch about a quarter of the lineup, but part of the event’s appeal is that you could have chosen a completely different adventure. In particular, we’re sad to miss out on Wishy, Voyeur, Rocket, Eterna, and Urika’s Bedroom. Next time, eh?
While the multi-venue setup means we’re spoilt for choice, we elect to stay inside EartH for the duration, dashing back and forth between the hall (perfectly serviceable black box) and the theatre (one of my favourite places to watch bands in London). This is partly out of convenience (and having been burned by the queue to get into the Shacklewell Arms at last year’s event), and partly because the lineup is too damn good.
We start off by watching Horse Jumper of Love, a wonderful Boston band. Some of the material is a little too sleepy to make much of an impression, but the heavier/more uptempo stuff goes down well. Slushy shoegaze mini-epic ‘Snow Angel’ is a particular highlight.
Chanel Beads are my favourite act on the lineup. They’re down a member tonight, but their show doesn’t suffer as a result. While there’s not a lot happening onstage, the duo manage to conjure an atmosphere of hazy beauty in the theatre. ‘Police Scanner’ is a big highlight, causing a ripple of energy to run through the crowd.
My verdict on ex-Black Midi frontman Geordie Greep’s new solo record was one of admiration rather than enjoyment. After tonight’s set I’m not even sure I feel the former… for all his bizarro lyrics and exaggerated interview persona, his onstage presence is weirdly diminutive. His band is obviously exceptionally talented, capable to pivoting from a samba groove to heavy metal riffage at the drop of a hat, but to what end?
Tonight’s de facto headliners are Shame. I’ve heard great things about their live show, and they do not disappoint. They have an effective repertoire of ‘rock band moves’ that feel organic and genuine rather than cynical. Frontman Charlie Steen whips the audience into a frenzy and spends a good deal of the set crowdsurfing, while bass player Josh Finerty keeps catapulting himself across the stage like he’s attached to a bungee cord. The band even find time to debut a trio of new songs, which fit seamlessly into the middle of the set and hopefully suggest we won’t be kept waiting too long for their fourth album.
With the recent news that the long-running Pitchfork Chicago festival will not be going ahead next year, hopefully the continued future of the London edition will be confirmed at some point. By showcasing the best of the UK scene against up-and-coming US acts that might not be able to tour over here otherwise, it’s arrived at something pretty essential, and it would be a huge shame to lose it.
