Slow Club

Slow by name, jaunty and smiley by nature; Charles Watson and Rebecca Taylor may have adopted the name Slow Club, but their music is anything but what their unspectacularly vague moniker would suggest.

Playing in the idyllic setting of a tea shop, where Friday night revellers indulge on mixed berry smoothies and Jamaican chocolate fudge cake rather than the usual fare of Stella or Budweiser, the quaint surroundings pretty much encapsulate everything about Slow Club and their happy-go-lucky demeanour.

Opener 'Let's Fall Back In Love', wher Taylor harmonises, tap dances and plays the drums simultaneously or merely by accident in contrast with Watson's dulcet tones and furious strum, resembles Tilly And The Wall without the overstated hippie-ness. Sometimes there are traces of Heavenly's golden past; at other times it's like The Kills without the sleaze, or The White Stripes reared on Allinson's bread and Hartley's strawberry jam. Three songs in and someone unfairly but understandably calls out, "It's the indie Same Difference!" While the perma-smiles and hyperactivity may eventually border on the annoying if you were to see them night after night, here it’s a heartening change to see two artists actually enjoying what they're doing without going through the motions and, more importantly, doing it so well.

New songs come and go tonight, the winsome 'Thinking Drinking Sinking Feeling' and stripped-down blues of 'Trophy Room' sounding particularly impressive, while 'Dance 'til The Morning Light', Slow Club's self-appointed "sexy song", will no doubt prove a hit at the festivals this summer.

Towards the end of the set the band asks for requests and someone in the audience responds predictably, “'Free Bird'!” Undeterred by the cheeky Lynyrd Skynyrd request, they play a heart-warming 'Apples And Pairs' before joining the audience for an impromptu sing-song.

Which probably comes as close to explaining the Slow Club manifesto as anything: exclusively great but everybody's welcome. Go, see, enjoy.

Photo: **Gary Wolstenholme