Gig Review - Good Shoes and VIncent Vincent & The Villains

Good Shoes and Vincent Vincent and the Villains
Concorde 2, Brighton
Wednesday 28th March

"Everything's OK and everything's alright!" Good Shoes neatly summarise their live show with one shouted lyric. Nobody leaves Concorde 2 disappointed, but they are trawling in the middle ground between elation and frustration.

Support band Vincent Vincent and the Villains arguably show more promise than the headliners. Seemingly knocking around for years, the three-piece have built a repertoire of blues infused numbers that sound like they were written to soundtrack a Happy Days rip-off. Instead they were probably penned in the pub down the road last week.

Frontman Vincent radiates charisma, holding a guitar as shiny as his suit. Every toe taps in time to penultimate tune Johnny Two Bands; the Villains manage to conjure a sound that – almost – sounds modern.

Their set is timed impeccably, leaving the infectious On My Own until last. Vincent converts the crowd into an added rhythm section with his demands for clapping, while the repetitive lyrics build the song into a boisterous sing-along finale. If only they could write a single as catchy as their name, it would be criminal to miss this band.

Good Shoes have more catchy potential singles on their debut album than most bands manage in a career. New release Never Meant To Hurt You arrives gift-wrapped with a chart-bothering sheen, reminiscing that "Things were so much better when we were young." Nevertheless, the band is young and plays with the freshness and exuberance only this can provide.

Good Shoes appeal is the way they relate to their crowd. Their music is artsy and they may have aspirations of fame and success, but they appear grounded. Singer Rhys Jones looks awkward, a beguiling discomfort spraying out of his every utterance. This reflects his adolescent fans' mindsets as well his self-conscious lyrics of complicated relationships and wasted time.

"Everybody says the same, same things and thinks they're just so, so original." They hit out at every wannabe on Blue Eyes, but fail to knowingly glance at their own lack of uniqueness. There s nothing to set them apart as a live band, from the angular guitars to the singer who can't really sing; it's art-pop by numbers.

Nevertheless, the chemistry between band and crowd remains. Crammed on Concorde's clammy floor, a jittery energy encapsulates Good Shoes' adoring followers. They yell back every word despite album Think Before You Speak only being released two days previously.

Good Shoes are by no means polished, accomplished performers. Each song and each band member is a nervous bundle of insecurity, not quite managing to assert themselves. However, they do manage to endear. Rapid two-minute songs bursts by until suddenly 45 minutes have past, the band have departed and you realise they were really rather good.