The Raveonettes
Brighton Barfly
Thursday 15th November 2007
Brighton Barfly
Thursday 15th November 2007
“I used to live in Brighton,” says The Raveonettes’ Sune Rose Wagner, with a wry smile to some friends in the crowd. Maybe this is how a rock gig in a raw little venue has appropriated this homely, wholesome feel. The band play nostalgic music with an ear to the future, garage rock with an eye on ‘50s pop; there’s something for everyone to enjoy – and everyone seems to.
As Sune saunters onstage, he appears distant but at ease. Fellow singer/guitarist Sharin Foo glides into view looking equally comfortable; a radiant muse for Sune’s understated persona. They plough into new material with little introduction. ‘Blush’ stands out as a showcase for sun-soaked guitars and simple rhythms. The duo is joined by a drummer who provides a platform for their gentle two-pronged guitar combination.
Old favourite ‘Love In A Trashcan’ allows those whose tapping feet desire more strenuous movement to scratch their itch. The more aggressive, direct performance gets bodies jumping and adds an increased energy to the setting. New single ‘Dead Sound’ has a similar catchiness that maintains the momentum, but with increased subtlety.
The negative of two combating guitarists is that the noise they create can overawe the harmonies they perform. They sing in unison, Sharin’s ethereal voice soaring over Sune’s lower murmurs, making a distinct and charming vocal pairing. However, on more raucous numbers like ‘Attack of the Ghost Riders’ and thunderous closer ‘Aly, Walk With Me’ these voices are lost under a blanket of noise.
There’s a relaxed atmosphere that swallows up any annoyance at unpolished playing and dodgy sound, aided by the band’s eagerness to interact. Sune reacts to glowsticks being thrown at Sharin by defining The Raveonettes as “old rave.” Later, they play Stereolab’s ‘French Disko’ because they believe their cover to be far superior to Editors’ attempt.
Where they excel is in delicacy and minimalism, times when Sune’s hauntingly intimate lyrics can be heard and Sharin’s ghostly presence savoured. ‘Black Satin’ provides such a moment, its pulsating riff matched by considered, refined singing. ‘Here Comes Mary’ is another captivating song of oppositions. It’s dreamy refrain hides sinister undertones in a gentle but edgy saga of suicide.
The Raveonettes mould their live show into a nuance of passionate intensity and passive melancholy, always keeping a flow to proceedings. This makes every melody float past but remain ingrained; the show does likewise. It’s unspectacular and not instantly striking, but the Danish duo and their songs have a captivating allure that warms the crowd – friends of the band or otherwise.
As Sune saunters onstage, he appears distant but at ease. Fellow singer/guitarist Sharin Foo glides into view looking equally comfortable; a radiant muse for Sune’s understated persona. They plough into new material with little introduction. ‘Blush’ stands out as a showcase for sun-soaked guitars and simple rhythms. The duo is joined by a drummer who provides a platform for their gentle two-pronged guitar combination.
Old favourite ‘Love In A Trashcan’ allows those whose tapping feet desire more strenuous movement to scratch their itch. The more aggressive, direct performance gets bodies jumping and adds an increased energy to the setting. New single ‘Dead Sound’ has a similar catchiness that maintains the momentum, but with increased subtlety.
The negative of two combating guitarists is that the noise they create can overawe the harmonies they perform. They sing in unison, Sharin’s ethereal voice soaring over Sune’s lower murmurs, making a distinct and charming vocal pairing. However, on more raucous numbers like ‘Attack of the Ghost Riders’ and thunderous closer ‘Aly, Walk With Me’ these voices are lost under a blanket of noise.
There’s a relaxed atmosphere that swallows up any annoyance at unpolished playing and dodgy sound, aided by the band’s eagerness to interact. Sune reacts to glowsticks being thrown at Sharin by defining The Raveonettes as “old rave.” Later, they play Stereolab’s ‘French Disko’ because they believe their cover to be far superior to Editors’ attempt.
Where they excel is in delicacy and minimalism, times when Sune’s hauntingly intimate lyrics can be heard and Sharin’s ghostly presence savoured. ‘Black Satin’ provides such a moment, its pulsating riff matched by considered, refined singing. ‘Here Comes Mary’ is another captivating song of oppositions. It’s dreamy refrain hides sinister undertones in a gentle but edgy saga of suicide.
The Raveonettes mould their live show into a nuance of passionate intensity and passive melancholy, always keeping a flow to proceedings. This makes every melody float past but remain ingrained; the show does likewise. It’s unspectacular and not instantly striking, but the Danish duo and their songs have a captivating allure that warms the crowd – friends of the band or otherwise.
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