Gig Review - The Twang

The Twang
Engine Rooms, Brighton
Sunday 11th March 2007


Stepping into Engine Rooms is like being transported to another era. Where are all the women? It’s a gentlemen only club, except the men are all drinking Stella and there isn’t a cigar in sight.

There’s more band members than girls watching them. The simple explanation is The Twang’s music targets blokes like The Angling Times targets anglers. It’s loud, brash and uncomplicated. But is it any good?

Saying the band draw heavily on their influences is understatement. Either Way recalls The Stone Roses without the melodic grace, while singer Phil Etheridge stalks the stage doing his best Shaun Ryder impression. The Happy Mondays imagery is completed by the presence of a Bez figure.

However, Martin Saunders doesn’t have Bez’s comic gift, instead resembling a clapping seal. The only explanation for Saunders membership in the band is friendship; the others discovered they had talent and he’s along for the ride.

Despite the annoying pointlessness of Saunders’ onstage presence, The Twang remain compelling viewing. Etheridge delivers lines with a menacing vitality that draws the attention, snarling at the rowdy crowd. There’s an honesty within lyrics like “It’s getting late, you’re in a state” that excuses their basic nature.

Nevertheless, songs like The Neighbour are laughably undemanding. A looping riff underpins a tale of fighting that fails to succeed as either social comment or a decent tune. While “whoa-oh” sounds echo around the room, all that is provoked is uncomfortable feet-shuffling.

Speaking of the venue – there’s tape everywhere. It’s holding the microphones in place, on plugs above the stage, even keeping a urinal on the wall in the gents. It all adds to the character of this ramshackle setting, making it feel intimate and unpolished.

The Twang tap into this spirit, building their set to an almighty climax. Shouting “You’re much better than London!” goes down well, as does mild mocking of a ginger-haired barman. After the Salt n Pepper-sampled Push The Ghost gets people dancing, a manic atmosphere takes over.

Suddenly, The Twang seem a defiant gang – the audience are the newest members. A U2-esque riff sparks riotous scenes as working-class anthem-in-waiting Wide Awake is unleashed. Etheridge is hit with his own microphone as he leans too close to the unruly crowd. Blood-splattered, he launches into Cloudy Room. A foot-stomper with a riveting bass line, it concludes the 50-minute set of in tumultuous fashion.

However, the euphoric finale masks the shortcomings of much of the night. The Twang make up for their lack of originality with a primal charm and edgy attitude. Still, more songs of higher quality are needed if they are to become the band of the people they hope to be. Plus a few girls taking an interest…

Greg Rose