Gig Review – The Kills

Meet the new guy, Sixty Gelu, and what he’s cooked up for you all this afternoon.

So pre-packaged is inner-city life that is resembles a microwave dinner. Complete with servings of work, social and downtime, city living is generic and cyclical. (Thank heavens, then, for the Lo-Fi movement). With its haphazard arrangements, the industrial sound of distorted tape has come to typify the genre that is Garage Rock.

And tonight the Brixton academy pays homage to Noise Rock royalty: The Kills. Fresh of the back of their fourth studio offering, the pair, known incriminatingly as  ‘VV’ and ‘Hotel’, march onto the stage and open with “No Wow”.

The indecipherable crackle from a tickertape flows into the room, as Alison Mosshart struts confidently towards the microphone stand.  Stood furtively to the left hand side of her, Jamie Hince nonchalantly caresses the humbucker on his guitar. Strumming the fret board with his index finger, a growling resonance is heard from his guitar. Sporting a fitted leather jacket with a floral neck scarf, he builds the song towards crescendo.  

With the arid taste of cigarette smoke hanging in the air, the duo break into “U.R.A. Fever”. The restless rattle of a militarised drum beat bellows from the speakers. Clapping her hands in time with the beat, Mosshart shakes her mane of bright red hair from side to side. Sharing the microphone, the pair lean towards one another like two illicit lovers as they sing the words “you are a fever/ I am a fever/ I aint born typical!”

The night culminates with the arrival of a squad of custom percussionists. Tactically strewn in a line against the stage’s backdrop, eight men stand stolidly in front of eight oil drums. Awaiting the call to spark calamity, the regiment, dressed in matching cat suits, begin to strike the drum skins in front of them. Blinded by the flecks of white light reflecting off the mirroring on Mosshart’s biker jacket, the wincing drone of Hinch’s guitar pervades the atmosphere. Bathed in indigo light, a succession of lighter flames arise sporadically from the crowed below, as Mosshart seductively croons the words “a little tornado/ a little serenade oh!”

Steeling hearts and upsetting the natural of order of society are all too easily accomplishable for this bohemian bridge and groom. Fashioning a set lit that explores the refined elements of their new album, to the acerbic production qualities of “Midnight Boom”; the Brixton Academy is ravaged. As the stage lights are extinguished, a trail of sweat, blood and smoke winds its way to the exit doors… now pass the rolling papers.

The Kills gig at the Brixton Academy (03rd December) gets a musicovered score of 7/10.