Live
< O Children at Dirty Bingo Vs Loud And Quiet, The Macbeth
words by Stuart Stubbs
It's like a flash-mob version of What's The Time, Mr Wolf. We turn one way and note that most of the Macbeth contingent must be on the roof terrace, doing their lungs no good, turn stage-ward to welcome the impeccably dressed O Children, and gulp! IT'S DINNER TIME! Internal organs nicely blackened, a crowd of a hundred have sneak attacked us, ghost-like on their feet to now ingest some ghoulish, indie, also tar-tick but oh so satisfying.
O Children, in part, used to be Bono Must Die. They were a silly band (as if the silly but heroic name didn't suggest so). But O Children aren't. Headed by ex-Bono hunter Tobi - a 6ft 6", cooler than thou, baritone soul warrior - this monochrome quartet play post punk to skulk gothic hallways to. They've recently sold out a limited split 7" with SCUM, and Japan is loving them. As are we this evening.
Bellowing a deep drawl that could shatter a ribcage at 10 paces (or 10 o clock, this being ...Mr Wolf), towering Tobi is where all eyes are fixed. In black Wayfarers, slightly swaying his shoulders occasionally, he's the star, helped to the top of the tree by a rhythm section that are as tight at their drain pipes and minimal lead guitar hooks that are floated out across the ether with pinpoint accuracy.
'Ace Breast' starts like The Horrors' 'Draw Japan', before turning into more of a graveyard bop. It could have been the highlight of the band's set, had 'Dead Disco Dancer' not snaked in to seduce everyone into twisting their knees left and right. A murderous tale, it's New Order in the days when Ian Curtis' body was still warm, with an oriental riff that worries us as we fail to climb into bed with it.
And so continues O Children's set of haunting nu-grave (yeah, we did just use that term!). Hands up, it sounds a lot like The Cure doing Joy Division at times, or vice versa. But these jamming spectres are the first to admit that they're still developing their sound. And as far as promising starts go, the future looks black.
Exclusive for loudandquiet.com
