Tuesday 30 November 2010

Weird Science- We Are Scientists, Portsmouth Pyramids, 15/11/10


Usually-reliable Brooklyn duo fail to achieve lift off in Portsmouth...


Understatement of the year: We Are Scientists’ best times may be behind them. The Brooklyn-based group arrived in a 2006 mainstream with intelligent, punk-tinged indie on debut album With Love & Squalour. It stood at odds with the angular art-rock that was big at the time. Follow ups Brain Thrust Mastery and this year’s Barbara (yes, that’s an album title) have seen the band soften considerably into new wave.

They have managed to remain a successful live draw due to the quality of their shows and their hilarious stage banter. A mild south-coast November evening however finds the Scientists’ missing some of their chemistry and physics.

For the most part, a slightly subdued atmosphere hung over Southsea’s sweatbox. Odd support acts- the ambient techno freakery of Rewards were like putting Trivium on before Coldplay, while Goldheart Assembly’s superb show still recieve a muted response- and a long delay meant that the packed venue quickly got restless, with many fans sat on the floor.

Keith Murray and Chris Cain got a warm response when they walked on stage, but they didn’t burst on with a lick of musical flame. First song Nice Guys- one of the highpoints on the new album- feels a bit limp. It takes an early hit, With Love...opener Nobody Move Nobody Get Hurt to really get the blood pumping and for the Pyramids to live up to its reputation.

And it’s the “classics” that really fire this show up. It’s A Hit and This Scene Is Dead wake everyone up and produce a feverent response. It’s during their most well known song, The Great Escape, that the roof finally bursts off the Pyramids. These moments are wonderful, they just don’t come enough.

That’s not to say that there aren’t other high points from other albums. Jack & Ginger features some quite astonishing guitar work from Murray, His hair may be greying, but he still connects with his decidely pubescent audience. The stinging guitars can’t blunt his voice either, which carries a soulful burr beneath all the mayhem. It’s when he really lets loose on guitar and vocals that the band rediscover their live mojo. The set closes with After Hours (always driving harder live than the slightly insipid studio version) and the closing strains of Led Zep’s Moby Dick. The encore of Cash Cow is suitably electric, and with that, the band is gone into the autumnal evening.

But it’s impossible to shake the feeling that WAS weren’t quite at full pelt. Nerves seemed high on the agenda, as a tetchy audience frequently ignored their comedy, which was less hysterical than it’s famed for. They remain a superb live band when they let go. More of this please, and the band might just see better days.

3/5