Sneaker Pimps

The Squander Pilots look perturbed. There seems to be only 3 people at the gig tonight. Ok, so it was very last minute that they got drafted in to do this support slot, but even at 9:30pm on a Wednesday night things should be busier than this. You can almost see them swallow bravely every time they cast a glance beyond the speakers, but soon the riddle is solved: 90% of the audience are wedged behind some newly erected partition between the bar and the stage. Ah. Over 14s-gig...."Why don't you just come out?" singer Donna shouts. "Well, we have cider here..." the answer comes ashamedly. Ah. Cathouse gig....

And so the band continues pouring out Massive Attack-esque soundscapes, calmly mapping out guitar and bassline shaped layers for Donna's Beth Gibbons-meets-Dido vocals to run a subdued riot in, alternating playfulness with menacing hypnotics like a baby wolf pacing up and down before you. Standouts are 'Lunan', clocking in at 8min and sounding like what falling through space in slow motion must feel like, and closing the set, single 'Given', a nicely seasoned duet with the bassplayer, whose vocals add an earthier, jazzier tone to the Squander Pilots' electroscopic sound. Although it might have taken 4 years for their first single to appear, it seems to have been entirely worth it.

And so, after a changeover time fit for a queen, three quietly sneaking Pimps take to the stage, missing out Liam Howe and leaving an empty space that gets taken up by a little TV and a cinematic backdrop, both of which seem to be fighting for the title of "freakiest visual aid" tonight. (The TV wins. Close-ups of wide-eyed frightened humans and cartoons of moon landings into animal DNA have nothing on a stoned rehearsal room video that seems to speed up and down at random). Nonwithstanding, they jump into the first few songs from their new album, singer Chris Corner tending to the synth as well as his guitar and impressively breaking a string half-way through the first song. Meanwhile the 8ft9 guitarist bounces about like a puppy on poppers, providing rather good backing vocals, even if he does seem a bit too happy to be here. Corner on the other hand rocks out with serious drama, spilling wine and blood and guts, cooing over the deeply dark electropop as if someone had crossed Brett Andersen's DNA with Thom Yorke, gave him 'The Vampire Lestat' as compulsive reading, then sent him out to play hide-and-seek with Kraftwerk. And sometimes, this really really works, like when they play 'Blue Movie' or new single 'Sick'. At other times, like the title track 'Bloodsport', it all falls too far into bleak 80's cocktail rock, but mostly the Sneaker Pimps succeed in conveying their dark urban synths with enough seduction to draw you into their world, then spit you out with a breathy "Thank you" after 3.5 minutes. Not entirely surprising, they get the biggest cheer for their older material: a beautiful updated version of 'Spin Spin Sugar' (arguably one of the best 90's tracks about oral sex) that genuinely towers above the one Kelli Dayton sang on, and the encore songs 'Half-Life' from 2nd album 'Splinter' and the anthemic 'Six Underground', again revised, updated, and strangely much more suited to Corner's cynicism-drenched vocals than the original sugarpop ones.

And as quietly as they came on they walk off again, leaving behind only torn-up setlists and the mock-exasparated statement "It's really shit, when your tour manager looks more like a rock star than you do!". Maybe, if you're Liam Gallagher it would, but I doubt it's something the Sneaker Pimps need to worry about...