British Sea Power landed on a stage festooned with foliage and
an assortment of plastic birds. The fresh-faced five have
cultivated a country-life chic image, quintessentially British,
complete with hiking boots, rolled-up trousers and parkas. Keyboards wavered over the live blare; too often the melody
was lost in the fray. The show pounded forward – this was
Pulp meets Coldplay meets Mull Historical Society, all on a
cliff-top, and beaming in the drizzle. The market may be awash with arty-indie ensembles, but the
audience still lapped up BSP’s familiar melancholy. Singer
Yan wailed, “I really feel I’m drowning”, and the
crowd rippled. Baseball-capped Bjork-like Europeans and a
violinist joined in the hearty melancholia, followed shortly by
someone cavorting in a nine-foot bear costume. The drummer, Wood,
then left the stage to prowl around the audience, leaving the
others to uproot the rural scenery. BSP are self-conscious rather than environmentally aware.
Their desperation to be charismatic and get noticed is not
unusual, and it is taking effect. However, the risk is that the
spectacle veils the music. The eerie quality to the songs warrants another listen, but it
is also delicate and stifled by raucous performance. Perhaps
British Sea Power is beter heard from a beach-side condo sipping
cocktails than live on stage.ARCHIVE: 1st week TT 2004
British Sea Power Live
