The Whitest Boy Alive

It can't be avoided I'm afraid. Tonight The Whitest Boy Alive (WBA) are playing on the same night as the European champions league final between Chelsea and Man. Utd. This could be quite a lure for the many with the pinnacle of club football receiving a disproportionate amount of press coverage in comparison to WBA. How best to combat an over hyped game than with an under hyped band. It's hard to imagine another band that is so diametrically opposite to the bombast associated with the Champions League game. The chances of them starting with a mashed up version of "Glory, Glory Man. Utd" and "Blue is the Colour" is rather unlikely but after seeing them in action it would undoubtedly be a delight.

I first saw them ending The Culture Show with 'Golden cage' and found that repeated viewings unveiled a catchiness that got inside your head and wheel clamped it there for a substantial time. It was like Kraftwerk and Chic had gone down the pub together and then invited Belle & Sebastian along for afters and started drinking German beer. The Whitest Boy Alive hail from Berlin, which has become a bit of a magnet for artists and musicians and now the exportation process hits the UK.

I turn up after the first half of the football, about 8.45pm and discover that the gig is sold out so maybe some of the hype is getting through after all. The audience are a predominantly young lot and include a large amount of the whitest boys and girls you'll see on a Wednesday evening in Camden. WBA get it all going at about 9.40pm and an appreciative crowd warm to them instantly. There's none of the low-fi feel of the 'Dreams' album and there is truly a joyous atmosphere evident. I think I was expecting a sombre slow burning style and a mixture of vulnerability and indie spirit as on record they sound like they could all do with a good meal. That's not a criticism, just an observation.

They really do look up for it though. Erland Oye (guitar &vocals) has a bit of a Jarvis Cocker look about him whilst bassist Marcin Oz twin towns with Will Ferrell from any movie set in the 1970's. There's quite a selection of old and new songs with the former getting rapturous receptions and the former respectful acknowledgements. They're the sort of band you find yourself almost jigging to as you move from foot to foot. When you look around it has become a jig-house as the infectious rhythms take over the auditorium. The guitar sound is crisp and pristine and the bass hits a funky vibe reminiscent of James brown without the mad hair, though Marcin runs that one fairly close for comfort.

When they launch into a few songs from 'Dreams' everything falls into place nicely. 'Done With You' and 'Fireworks' increase the jig factor but for me the slower 'Don't Give Up' showcases the band at its best. There's a delicate section that builds and builds and the whole band lets rip in a kind of controlled way but then go hell for leather. Well, they're more of a hell for silk type band but it's an undoubted highlight of the gig. A couple of new songs keep up the momentum agreeably and they finish up with a souped up 'Burning' which smoulders along until the song is extinguished. It's like having a good winter vegetable soup as it gives you a warm feeling inside.

Throughout this whole performance there's a naive charm in evidence and The Whitest Boy Alive tread a thin line between euro-pop and Kraftwerk-alikes in a casually confident manner which bodes well for any Eurovision song contest ambitions. I expected gloom but got a happy room.

I leave Koko at 10.50pm and there's a smattering of disappointed Chelsea fans walking the streets. Next time I'd recommend them to support WBA and there'll definitely be a happier outcome.

FUTURE GIGS

sorry, we currently have no gigs listed for this act.