The Crimea

There’s a queue a bloody mile long snaking round the downstairs pub bit of Camden’s matchbox-sized Barfly Club. I think about two people paid to get in and the rest are music biz guest-list scum like the Doc and me… first up are The Koreans, whom I'm banned from reviewing, owing to DiS's vested interest...

Both guitarists in Clarkesville (terrible, terrible name…) use the best EVER guitar, the Fender Telecaster. This puts them up with such luminaries as the Quo in my book… The opening number comes across like George Jones fronting New Order, low mournful vocals and a downbeat melancholy to the tune, but with an eye on the future courtesy of the keyboards. More standard country-rock fare follows, nodding along pleasingly, but hardly setting the place alight. Then, just as things are slipping into real Dawson’s Creek soundtrackery, Clarkesville pull out their two trump cards. Debut single 'Secret File' is a sweeping piece of guitar-less balladry a la The Flaming Lips, but without Wayne Coyne’s caterwauling whine (Thank God…) then the closing number is a ragged epic along the lines of Neil Young’s ‘Words’. Fantastic stuff, not a dry eye in the house…

Two of The Crimea used to be in The Crocketts and played with the Levellers a while back – anyone who snears can piss off to Hoxton… Fronted by Davey "Davy Crockett" McManus, a front-toothless singer, kind of like a pretty Shane McGowan, and indeed a gruff line of Pogues-like punk-folk runs through their set. It’s rough and ready as a bar-room brawler at kicking-out time, but with a big-hearted sense of pop fun, to bring a smile to the face of even the most stony-hearted Camden hipster. You can catch ‘em playing in vast aircraft hangers with Stereophonics and Travis soon, but for now The Crimea are bringing a cozy warm glow to the tiny little Monarch…