If you’ve visited the internet in the past two weeks, you will have seen a yellow and green translucent advert for the new eponymous album by Warpaint. It’s a dreamy, hazy anthem of statement and sex, that is sure to bring this all-female four piece out of the underground and into the spotlight. But judging by the wall to wall sold-out O2 Academy tonight, it’s clear that a lot of Oxonians already know their name. Everyone here seems to know at least three other people with a ticket, and the anticipation is pretty intense. At 8.30pm, they take up their instruments, and open the hour and a half set with the instrumental ‘Intro’, pushing the venue into an ominous but excited buzz.
And from the moment they do, the haziness and sensuality that the new album promised is delivered by hand. Just as it does on Warpaint, without hesitation, the confident vocals of ‘Keep it Healthy’ break ‘Intro’ to draw the gig into focus. “You were there, you were there when I first believed in,” accuses guitar and vocalist Theresa Wayman, letting the voice slip just the right way to let a believable temper enter in. A few tracks later, ‘Hi’ and ‘Biggy’ play, and on both, sure beats juxtapose with haunting and hazy vocals, intermingling to create a grating dream world where statements are distorted, dissonant, but ordered onto your consciousness. And so within the first few numbers of the set, the identity of this band is laid bare: it’s focussed, tempered, hazy and ordered, not just musically, but with every movement and image of the performance.
The name is Warpaint, and the band’s show is a show of strength, unity and concentration, just as an army’s would be. Eyes bore into instruments or audience, to give the band all the strength of Bodicia, without sacrificing the realness and humanity which makes this four-piece so appealing. There are moments where you think they’ll lose it, like when the sound guy repeatedly messes up the balance, or when Wayman picks up a mug of tea. Somehow not even this anti-rock n’ roll beverage shackles the powerful impression. Perhaps it wavers when Wayman awkwardly responds to a call out and starts singing the Zulu bit of ‘The Circle of Life’ from The Lion King, but the reason it’s awkward is because it’s a deviation from the focus that was on show before. Their attention and power is enough to engage the onlookers who have not yet listened to the new tracks and are swimming in noise where vintage Warpaint is scarce.
And there’s another thing. In the lead up to the release of the new album, they told The Guardian that they wanted this record to be sexy. And, well, despite fearing I’m objectifying them, not just the music but Warpaint themselves, really are. It’s not whipped cream firing out of bras, or wind rush hair flips. It is not coming from the musicians outer selves, but what they do with the sensual and dreamy quality of their music, mesmerising vocals that hook you onto the statement they’re making. It’s a confidence that emanates, without actively seeking your attention. An invitation of their hazy, lazy world that simply cannot be resisted.
