Broadcast is the perfect venue to see a band like Sky Larkin; just like the band, it’s small, it’s underground, it’s a little rough around the edges and it has the capacity to surprise you.
Sky Larkin have been around for a little while and that experience and confidence is plain to see, opener ‘Still Windmills’ has an urgency and immediacy that fits the space with a thumping bass pedal and guitars that threaten to drown out the vocals – it’s perfectly pitched to get an evening started.
What you desperately want to hear from a band that already have some albums under their belt is a sense that the new material will be exciting.
Sky Larkin deliver with some darker, broodier material that sits somewhere closer to Joy Division or Sonic Youth.
That said, the more familiar songs close the set with a flourish and make you wonder why the band isn’t getting wider acclaim.
A friend recommended Marnie Stern to me with the succinct “she’s a total babe and she shreds the guitar”, I’m not sure I can better that review.
Blonde hair falling around her face and drinking liberal amounts of white wine, Marnie Stern tunes up and starts playing without introduction, if you can play guitar this well then you don’t need any introduction.
Stern seems at risk of losing control at any moment as her fingers blaze over the fret board – her face part supreme effort and part supreme joy, a breathless few minutes of shredding later she exhales, smiles and drinks some more white wine.
From there the template is set, every song sits right on the edge of complete disaster but, perhaps through sheer force of will, somehow holds together.
Most of the set comes from Stern’s latest album, the brilliantly named Chronicles of Marnia, the noticeable change from earlier material is that these songs are a little more conventional – a little more verse chorus.
The finger tapping and noise approach to earlier albums is on display too, and is great fun, but a song like ‘Immortals’ marry that chaos to a punchy chorus and adds some backing vocals to great effect.
As Stern battles unsuccessfully with a guitar lead that has wrapped itself around her leg and tries to work out what song is supposed to be next, her bassist asks “how do you, like, cross the street on your own?” Stern laughs (more white wine) but the shambolic air to the gig doesn’t seep into the guitar playing.
This is exciting, exhilarating music and an extended, heavy rock ending to the night with some quite remarkable drumming is a perfect way to go out.
A wonderful, beautiful mess of a gig then, and yes “she’s a total babe and she shreds the guitar”.
Words: Alastair Mitchell
