Birds of a feather

(Morning Star, Friday 20 October 2006)

LIVE: Guillemots, Mandela Hall, Belfast

KIRSTIE MAY comes across a motley crew of musical misfits who play thoughtful indie ballads about lost summer days.

There's a degree of fabrication to bands like the Guillemots.

Idiosyncratic, eccentric, begging to be adored - if any of these characteristics in a band leave you cold, Guillemots may not strike the right chord at first listen.

Are they trying so hard that they're strangling their own natural impulses?

Riding out the suspicion of pretension is worth it, though, because, after the initial discomfort, it is going to get so good.

Let's start at the beginning. Fyfe Dangerfield formed Guillemots in 2004. Hailing from Birmingham, he collected an unusual international elite of musical brains and they have been untouchable ever since.

There's an effort to be individual in their make-up that can be vexing and the concept of the four piece, who cite birdsong as one of their main influences, have had the music meeja foaming at the mouth since before their Through the Window Pane album went on the Mercury Music Prize shortlist earlier this year. But don't let that put you off.

Live, Guillemots are a daunting prospect to say the least. There's a broad social spectrum represented in the assembled crowd, from shouty lager types to thoughtful beards, as well as the obligatory loved-up couples with their claims staked on the quiet, thoughtful ballads.

From the second the band hit the stage, it is clear that they are in the most natural of habitats.

Dangerfield writes lyrics of rural paradise which have a place where trees and fields speak of summer days and the endless possibility of space becomes truly apparent, unfettered by buildings and urban grime.

But, failing that, it seems clear that a dingy basement in a students' union will substitute just fine, with the focus firmly on the spectacular showman that Dangerfield is.

There is a well-paced set on show, moving from tiny little quiet songs to big crazy rocking numbers, but never losing the momentum or the crowd.

Most of the tracks come off Through The Window Pane, including the crowd-pleasing Made-Up Lovesong 43 and epic set closer Sao Paulo, replete with Samba-style bin lid thumping.

Dangerfield makes sure of some good banter with the audience, including a request to rent the crowd and take them on tour with him.

Multi-instrumental breaks are a-plenty, where Dangerfield and fellow bandmates Brazilian MC Lord Magrao, Aristazabal Hawkes and Scots tub-thumper Greig Stewart hit various percussive instruments and body parts to form the resultant cacophony.

Canadian-born Aristazabal injects a degree of sexuality into the show which is frankly astonishing, as well as hitting a mean double bass.

Technically almost perfect, Guillemots are plainly a mad muso band, classically trained and invested with the sort of passion which makes timeless must-have albums.

By turns simple and then orchestral, they are at their best when invested with a wall of sound which boosts the whole live experience.

Coming across as a bunch of kooks and misfits, Guillemots are birds of a feather flocking together - and what could be more natural than that?