It’s NME Awards season again and so a disparate array of should-bes, could-still-bes and has-beens are ushered onto London’s stages every night for a couple of weeks. This line-up highlights the “eclectic” nature of their selection policy.
Ironically, given their position on the bill, it’s Southampton’s Delays whose star is in the ascendancy at this point in time, buoyed by the Top 20 success of their third single, "Long Time Coming". Unfortunately it soon becomes apparent that the shining, glittering indie pop of their singles does not run through the rest of their material. Forget comparisons with era-defining bands like The Stone Roses and The La’s, their guitar-driven, keyboard-accessorised sound actually brings to mind the gone and forgotten Warm Jets.
While frontman Greg Gilbert undoubtedly has a fine voice, his brother Aaron’s keyboard bleeps and belches make the whole thing sound rather twee. Even the brilliant singles "More Than Heaven" and "Long Time Coming" sound down-to-earth and ordinary live. Maybe it was a bad night, maybe their debut album will reveal hidden depths. For now though, deeply disappointing.
After such a letdown, the arrival of a fat, balding man in an oversized, multi-coloured suit is a small relief. At first. Then Har Mar Superstar faces an almighty battle to hold the attention. To be fair, he gives it his best shot, trying audience participation, bringing out two scantily-clad go-go dancers and a live rhythm section, removing his clothes and ensuring every song is under two minutes. With the exception of the ‘hit’ "EZ Pass", which he lets linger on, presumably in the hope that it triggers some recognition from the audience.
“This is a new one” Har Mar announces between every other song, some of which sound a bit like Prince, the rest just like the low-rent hip-hop those who have sampled his wares before are accustomed to. By the closing "Power Lunch", he’s down to his red Y-fronts, gyrating his beer gut. Having trapped himself by playing it for laughs, Har Mar Superstar's 15 minutes is probably almost up.
By contrast, The Raveonettes are built to last. Their sleek, Pixies/Sonic Youth amalgam might not be the most original sound around but when the guitars and bass interlock and wage war on the eardrums, it’s hard not to be impressed. Hopefully now they’ve ditched their biker shtick, as the brooding presence Sune Rose and Sharin give off on stage is provocative enough. If only they didn't speak between songs the magic would be preserved, instead of murmuring their thanks.
Along with the highlights of debut album "Chain Gang Of Love", The Raveonettes batter Eddie Cochran’s "C’mon Everybody" into a FX-pedalled pulp – the logical fusion of their love of 50s culture and 80s noise. But despite their retro influences, their time is most definitely still now.
