Our Broken Garden

The dark’s inviting, warm, comforting as it envelops the senses so startled by strip lighting in the bar-cum-foyer; into the Queen Lizzie Hall’s embrace at a skip, sinking into a seat comfortable enough to sit tight for two hours plus, save the sole two-pint-prompted toilet break (sorry, lady to my right). Here, things are cultured, polite; it seems no place for a rock band.

Yet a rock band is what we’re in for tonight, albeit a very unique one. Denmark’s Efterklang, recipients of a rare 10/10 DiS review for last year’s Parades LP (review), are traditionalists only in the sense that they use guitar, bass and drums as cornerstones of the creations they erect, rising from the stage slowly, revealing nuances sweet and affecting with each clutch of so-many seconds. Scattered about these essentials are electronic boxes full of circuit-board wizardry, additional percussion things to swing, whack and shake; stage left a piano manned by Our Broken Garden’s Anna Broensted (her own outfit provide solid main support this evening). The cumulative effect is occasionally overwhelming, and always engrossing, band members flitting from one instrument to another during songs, stage lights tracing their steps best they can.

Plucking numbers from across the catalogue, Efterklang’s highlights this evening are (perhaps obviously given my personal penchant for the record) predominantly sourced from Parades: ‘Caravan’, the band’s new single, is a beautifully bombastic exercise in enveloping the onlooker, twinkling embellishments and gang vocals echoing about this expansive space like it was the band’s home from home; grand for sure, but absolutely appropriately so. ‘Mirador’ and ‘Cutting Ice To Snow’ are similarly captivating, and an encore of ‘Jojo’ sees the septet embark on an audience meet-and-greet, winding their way about the seats with trumpet parping and drum rolled. Up close, ever so personal: the band ascends to another level of amazing.

Efterklang may toil in the regions, but London, it seems, has awoken to their singular charms – filling this space to the extent where it doesn’t feel empty is no little achievement given the band in question’s profile in the (more) mainstream music media. All comers are rewarded, returning home uplifted; yours truly wanders back stage to shake a band hand with a big dumb grin all over his face. Or perhaps that’s ‘cause of the piss I need? Happens to babies, right?

Digression terminated, the concluding fact: Efterklang, live and on record, are rarely less than an incredibly moving and inspiring listen. If you’re yet to let them breach your taste defences, watch the bombs explode below ‘til your heart pops in time.