The Kills

Stalwarts of Domino Records and one-time ATP favourites they may be, but make no mistake about it: The Kills are tabloid rock fodder in the same way as Winehouse, Doherty, Gallagher and Harding. Gone are the ridiculous monikers of ‘VV’ and ‘Hotel’ that threatened to turn them into a parody from the outset. These days the female half goes under her birth name of Alison Mosshart while guitarist Jamie Hince, whether he likes it or not, has a new alias to contend with for the foreseeable future: Mr Kate Moss.

Sadly Kate isn't with us this evening; a cold Sunday night in one of Nottingham's least salubrious parts of town obviously isn't as appealing as whooping it up with the capital’s A-list crowd. Several opportunist pap-snappers endure a worthless journey.

On the other hand, they could always watch the band of course. First though, there's the small measure of tonight's support act to sit through. Or at least there would be if The Kills hadn't decided to show a roughly cut montage of film that seems to veer between clips from The Rolling Stones' 'Cocksucker Blues' to hastily added stills of themselves instead. Pretentious or poetic: you decide? One thing nobody can dispute is that their choice of pre-show entertainment is at least fitting bearing in mind the surroundings hosting tonight's event; formerly a hardware store for tradesmen and DIY enthusiasts collectively, the latest addition to the national project of self-funded art organisations seems almost too perfect, right down to the crystalline sound, that one can only wonder why no one came up with the idea of using it as a live music venue beforehand.

When The Kills do finally appear in person, one can't help feeling that the anticipation that surrounded their previous visits - both of their last two shows here in the city's much bigger Rescue Rooms venue completely sold-out - seems to have been replaced by mere shrugs of semi-contentment and underwhelming expectancy rather than expectation.

Thankfully, it only takes the first few seconds of opener 'U.R.A. Fever' to quell those fears in an instant. Largely down to the engaging way Mosshart not only imposes the words, but instinctively acts them out in a role-play fashion, so much so that it’s impossible not to believe she actually means every forced syllable from the bottom of her guttural heart. Although comparisons to a low-rent White Stripes or less-read PJ Harvey are always going to be inevitable for a band of such minimalist values, The Kills have grown somewhat as a charismatic entity of their own right, even if there is – and there always has been if we're honest - a certain same-old feeling about most of their songs.

Newer songs from forthcoming album Midnight Boom - 'Alphabet Pony' by far the pick of the bunch - blend into older numbers like 'Pull A U' and 'No Wow' with ease, mostly reliant on the focal point of Mosshart's edgy vocal, occasionally supported by Hince's not-quite-as-believable (bearing in mind his current high-profile acquaintance) interplay.

While it would be hard to imagine The Kills ever being anyone's favourite band, for all their limitations, they're still an occasionally enthralling proposition and a welcome change from dreary lad-rock and third-hand rave culture, something which the music industry clearly needs right now.

See further photographs from this show HERE