Frightened Rabbit

Whoever said that Sundays are meant for resting clearly didn’t tell the guys (and gals) behind This Is Music. And so, late at night when most of the country is probably settling down having watched Antiques Roadshow, there’s a small contingent in a pub in the middle of – where else? – Shoreditch, watching some bands and partying into the wee hours of Monday morning.

It could be an unwanted end to a weekend of excess, because, let’s face it, there’s nothing worse than standing on your feet when you just need to collapse, but luckily, this is far from the case. Kyte’s icy cold atmospherics freeze hearts and – unusually for a gig in a pub – stop people chattering away. They come across as a timid, scared, nervous, and they sing their songs in a distorted ghostly whisper, but their uncertainty is in keeping with their glacial sound – they are as ethereal as Sigur Rós yet as catchy as the best kind of pop. (Look for a new interview with the band soon – Ed.)

*Frightened Rabbit *(pictured) are a loud ball of jittery nerves and alcoholic insecurity. They share with fellow labelmates The Twilight Sad a desperate urge to make music, that they have no choice about the matter. Singer Scott Hutchison stands to the left of the stage, turned away from the crowd ready to sink into himself with every word he sings, making sure you feel every damn word, every slight wobble in his voice. They’re louder live than on record – perhaps the result of a recently added fourth member – and if you close your eyes you can imagine a car speeding faster and faster towards the brick wall it’s invariably heading going to hit. It’s heavy, powerful stuff, all the weight of life and death, of the band’s insecurities, problems and sadness pressing down more on your shoulders with every song they play.

Which isn’t exactly ideal for a Sunday night, what with work and real life the next morning looming ever closer, but that really doesn’t matter. Everything may feel like it’s falling apart, but Frightened Rabbit make it sound alright to be a little fucked up. In fact, they make it sound quite beautiful.

Photo: David Gourley