While a typically blustery March evening blows outside, no such inclement atmospheres can be found inside Brixton Academy, which is a far warmer and fuzzier place. Lemon Jelly fans, or ‘Jellyheads’, sit on the floor engaged in lively conversation awaiting their beloved dynamic duo. Their excitement is simply a reflection of the fact that Lemon Jelly actually make gigs fun.
Along with the Scissor Sisters and The Flaming Lips, Tom Franglen and Fred Deakin know what the audience really wants is exploding pyramids and the singer shot-out of a cannon…and maybe a busker as the support act. Well perhaps not that. Way before fame came beckoning, the pair played in a band that would only use instruments they found en route to gigs. So where exactly did they dig-up said busker, Don Partridge? Well, if Mister Partridge’s slot is a rather prolonged situationist joke, his pub style performance still soundtracks an excellent party game of "Name That Tune". These things just don’t happen at a Radiohead gig.
On previous outings, the brothers Jelly have taken to dressing as "The Flintstones" and playing the "Wheel Of Fortune" with Phill Jupitus. That the gig instead kicks-off in a blast of cacophonous cock rock is, then, something of a shock. Whatever would the Tweenies think? Are the former court jesters of chill-out now a proper greasy rock'n'roll band, who swig Jack Daniels and swear at old ladies? Perhaps. When Franglen then launches into his axe hero pose, legs akimbo and with his goatee swathed in the footlights, the unlikely spectre of Lucifer himself is presented. Interestingly, this also somewhat disproves the theory that the devil has the best tunes.
Moreover, if “KY” and “Lost Horizons” are filled with the dayglo sounds of childhood, “64-95” is more the moody adolescent that isn’t so much fun to be around. When the twosome plunge into the sherbety sensations of the first two albums, it's difficult to detect which is brighter…the luminous stage show or the flash of pearly whites.
With album artwork resembling an explosion in a paint factory, LAUNCH expected a colourful evening, but there can be few more heart-warmingly surreal moments than joining a carousing chorus of "all the ducks are swimming in the water, faldaraldaraldaraldo" with a legion of grown men and women. That was "beautiful, beautiful…just beautiful".
