The Icarus Line

The striking black shirt and blood-red tie uniform which became The Icarus Line’s image first time round has noticeably been replaced by a nothingness of style. This is not a problem in itself, but the loss of the something that set the band apart from their peers does characterise The Icarus Line’s live performance this evening.

“We discussed this earlier. If anyone has any drugs, we need them”.

Debatable. It’s quite likely that the Icarus Line are suffering from something to do with drugs already. Be it too many, too little, whatever - they’re fucked and quite visibly so. Staggering around the stage, it seems the post noise-core expressionists need a team of qualified paramedics far more than they need a herd of disgruntled and uneasy fans. Their performance is un-engaging. The band’s bloodshot eyes burn, like a metaphor for the pre-rehabilitation confusion and on-stage lethargy that they articulate.

The dilemma is this: there would be no band at all without the drugs. From the days of debut album 'Mono' up to current release 'Penance Soiree', there has always been a substantial non-musical influence to the band’s song writing. The problem now, however, is that the essence of what makes The Icarus Line so individual is perhaps leading to their downfall. When the band play songs like 'Feed a Cat to Your Cobra', you can still hear the underlying talent. Scratching punk guitars, pounding boom-boom-boom drums, multi-changing time and pace and the haunting crying/whining/screaming vocals of a man possessed; all this is still the same package, but also something at the mercy of many different white-powder influences. Probably. Creative, destructive, inconceivable when sober - there is no right or wrong way for The Icarus Line to carry on. No doubt they are amazing, but on tonight's form they do little to astonish.

Read what DiS thought when the drug-fuelled LA punks crash-landed in London on the first date of this tour here. If you were at one of the shows, what was your impression?