My friend has been hassling me to come check out The Infants for months now. He came to practice one day pacing about the place going on about how awesome and different they were. I kept saying I would go see them with him but usually just ended up playing Xbox and writing blogs instead.
Well today I got a text from him saying they were supporting Gang Darts at the Evelyn and I was just like ‘fuck it’ and locked it in. Since I suck at being cool I was two hours early and stood around drinking water waiting for my friends to rock up like a doofus. But the bands felt sorry for me and let me sit at their table so I got to feel like I was in the gang.
The Finks were a trembling, powerful head nod to the impact of simple songwriting over musical chicanery. I’m ninety percent sure I caught the frontman and his female compatriot doing an acoustic show at a book store a while back, purely because I recognised the singer’s posture. When their voices joined I immediately knew it was them, the same shivering, warm, egg on the head feeling overwhelmed me. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a boy/girl sweety pie duo and these guys had it in spades.
They’ve clearly put some work into some up tempo numbers but if you ask me just keep that shit low-fi. Make me all happy/sad plz. In fact just ditch the instruments and sing me a private acapella show in a candle-lit room.
The Infants, wow.
I’ve spent the past two days blogging for Inside Bitcoins, so perhaps my coolness meter has been skewed slightly after only talking about cryptography and financial models for 48 hours. However I’m pretty sure The Infants are what bees use to bend their legs.
With angular, savage tempos and driving rhythms, they set a stage where unexpected hook turns and melodic backflips were par for the course. This was the bar they built from the first phrase of their first song. On this foundation they stacked layer upon layer of whimsical, evil vocals, sassy hip swings, and a moustache that I’d follow through an apocalypse.
The tonal pallet was a lot of distortion and wail, but with a strong melodic direction. The man of the match was definitely the singer. Who knows what her name was, but her delivery, laced with savage, electric passion and quirky mannerisms, had every boy in the audience trying to dance into her field of vision (and a tonne of ladies). I’m pretty sure there was one transmorphic pan galactic being in the mix as well.
The Gang Darts had a relaxed, laconic approach to their release and performance. Smoke billowed and smooth melodies wrapped a tall enigmatic figure. Let’s call him John because it’s not my job to learn anyone’s fucking name. John uttered invocations through prose, reminiscent of Jeff Buckley but with more ominous, distant overtones. The energy change was hard to handle after The Infant’s karate-kick filled face-fuck, but they definitely had their chops on.
Their mellow, sparse composition was interspersed with tight licks, well placed and neither overwrought nor underwhelming. If the lead guitar was porridge then Goldie Locks would be eating them because it was just right.
Due to the nature of public transport and the fact that The Infants had literally given me a medical condition I had to ghost super hard, so not sure if the tone or pace changed, but it was a well rounded night all round.
7 potatos and one gold potatoe out of nothing.