Rogue Wave

Stage lights up and the room swells with wistful, dreamy and uncomplicated Americana.

Obvious comparisons are instantaneous and lazy journalism might be avoidable, but if The Shins are the sound of the summer, then Rogue Wave are the spring; crisp, simple and delicate, yet sparkling with optimism and foreboding with promise. Theirs is the sound of light glinting through the tree-tops, of flower petals unfurling and of icy puddles on a sunny Sunday morning. Unpretentious, straightforward and utterly charming.

It is all too often that frantic stage shows detract from otherwise beautiful music, with bands desperate to please their audience and make an impression. Front man Zach Rogue is apparently oblivious to this expectation. Strikingly calm and relaxed - the whole band seem as though playing music is sublimely natural and effortless. Meandering casually through a set of daydream melodies, mumbling snippets of conversation into the microphone as through careless to the setting - there’s a feeling of ease and lacking sense of urgency. This is their time they’re taking, not ours.

Just as nonchalance burgeons on becoming a blatant disregard for entertainment and attention spans wear thin, the stage erupts into a surge of tribal warfare. Wielding drumsticks as weapons, most of the band join in to hammer out a crescendo of rhythm. They’re not the first to do it, and they certainly won’t be the last, but oh it feels glorious. An thundering, intense and dramatic climax amidst a set of otherwise subtle and airy calm.

It is perhaps unfortunate for Rogue Wave that, unless they manage to pull off something truly unique, their career is in danger of living in the shadow of their O.C._-famed counterparts. However, this California-based quartet stand strong to play the kind of poignant and introverted melodies that make your heart swell and demand you sing along - I really only wish I knew the words.