The Icarus Line

Joe Cardemone knows this place's history - the walls are adorned with photographs and posters of great concerts of old for all to see - yet when he takes to the stage, arm aloft, fist clenched, it's "all eyes on me, motherfuckers" or death to the front row. Eyes shifted, he approches the mic'. Let's party the baby off, baby...

The Icarus Line's wiry, antagonistic vocalist appears to be in high spirits - odd considering he only landed in the UK this morning and just hours earlier looked like he hadn't slept for a fortnight; if he had it was in a skip. Hands on hips, he wiggles his skinny ass to a selection of fuzzed-up, punk rock monsters, the majority of which are culled from the band's incredible new record, 'Penance Soiree'. When an older song is dropped mid-set, namely the usually ferocious 'Feed A Cat To Your Cobra', it mutates halfway through into some grunge-blues death waltz. Those eyes gaze onwards, the brains behind them confused by the band's apparent disregard for their feelings - chances are that half of those in attendance would kill just to throw themselves about wildly to the band's early calling card.

The feeling of confusion is soon lifted. 'Up Against The Wall Motherfuckers' - the title of which is edited, much to the band's displeasure, on the posters blu-tacked about the venue - explodes like a roman candle in your undercrackers. If it were to manifest itself as a living, breathing being, it'd eat your face off no matter what form it took. New single 'Party The Baby Off' is a breezier affair, and is probably the most commercial-sounding song the LA quintet have ever written. If you didn't know better you'd assume it was by The Pattern, which is no bad thing whatsoever. And then they're gone - no encore, no thank you, just an empty stage and a chant of "MORE!" for what feels like an eternity. But that's the best way to leave a gig, isn't it; thirsty for more? If that's the case then this gig is up there with the best in recent memory.