British Sea Power

British Sea Power are a band like no other. They make spell-binding, angular music and write peerless songs about obscure Czech novelists, nuclear power stations and 'benign nationalism'. Their reference points range from Dostoyevsky to Charles Lindberg.

Live, they wear army fatigues and submarine uniforms. They cover the stage with foliage and plastic animals. Their sets usually end in a riot of sonic and visceral chaos akin more to performance art than rock music.

Where does their inspiration come from? The group's history provides a few clues. Brothers Yan, the singer, and Hamilton, the bassist, are the sons of an unpublished writer and along with Wood, the drummer, they were brought up in the remote wilderness of England's lake district. Yan met guitarist Noble while studying psychology at Reading University. The four teamed up, and British Sea Power were born. The quintet was completed when bass-drummer and keyboard player Eamon later joined the band.

Seeking a more inspirational base with better venues, the group headed south and landed in the cosmopolitan seaside city of Brighton, where they established Club Sea Power, a night at the Lift and Freebutt clubs, where they DJ'ed, played live and provided a platform for other unusual performers, such as the Copper Family, a 200-year-old Sussex folk troupe.

Following the release of their first single, Fear of Drowning, on their own label, Golden Chariot, and some ecstatic reviews of their live shows, the group signed to Rough Trade records. For a while, during 2001 and 2002, the band were continually touted as the 'next big thing' but the delay in releasing their first album meant that the fickle British music press quickly lost interest.

However, a succession of brilliant singles followed - and the band's breathtaking live shows meant they were steadily building a devoted fan base. Their extensive touring schedule has recently taken them around Europe where they have been supporting avant garde New Yorkers Interpol. Their last UK tour took in venues from Aberdeen to the Scilly Isles.

The latter concert was arranged in association with Operation Lighthouse Keeper, an organisation that campaigns for the reinstatement of manned lighthouses. Prior to the start of the tour, the launch gig for their new album, much to the bemusement of the invited guests, was held in a village pub deep in rural Sussex.

All this may seem like mildly eccentric posturing by an up-and-coming band seeking media attention. But BSP's leisure interests are about as far removed from the traditonal rock'n'roll lifestyle as you could get - ornithology, rambling, Ordnance Survey maps, the flora and fauna of the English countryside and forgotten coastal villages all hold an attraction. They would rather be heading off to the woods with rucksacks on their backs than throwing televisions out of hotel windows.

The group's fondness for pastoral pursuits, coupled with a shy off-stage persona, might lead a casual observer to assume their music would be lacking in energy and passion. In fact, they are one of the most exciting live acts in the country.

The shows inevitably end with the band ad-libbing in a manner that is as infectious as it is chaotic. Yan and his cohorts turn their performances into theatres of the absurd. Tree branches are thrown into the audience; Yan shrieks his lyrics while swallowing the microphone; Eamon marches through the audience banging his drum; Noble climbs onto the speakers and plays the guitar with his teeth; Hamilton, wearing a crown of leaves, makes owl impressions and performs some kind of pagan dance ritual...

Such antics could be used to compensate for the quality of the material. But in the three years since BSP formed, they have created an entrancing collection of songs, from emotive ballads such as new single Carrion and The Lonely (written about the band's late friend, musician Geoff Goddard), to the jerky, psychedlic cacophony of tracks like Favours in the Beetroot Fields and Apologies to Insect Life, and searing rift-driven epics such as Remember Me.

There are echoes of Joy Division (who the group acknowledge as an influence), the Fall, Echo and the Bunnymen and even XTC. But in truth they are really not like any of these.

Whether the group's eclectism and 'English ecccentricity' will inhibit their appeal in an era of manufactured bands and bland indie pop, has yet to be seen. But we do not have too long to wait to find out. Their debut album, The Decline of British Sea Power (released on June 2), should establish them in the heart of the masses. And don't be surprised if NME and Q suddenly decide they are flavour of the month. Let's hope that in all the attention the band are about to receive that they continue making the music they want to make in the way they want to make it.

Into the breach, dear friends - grab it with both hands, you deserve it...

Written by Kevo from Brilliantine Mortality website (linked below)