LosCampesinosLive250

 

 

Gigs in clubs are always a difficult affair – the British gig go’ers mindset can’t fully integrate the behaviour of both environments. After al, both have a set sociological procedure to them – at a gig, you hand over your ticket, go buy a drink, browse the merch stand, jostle with strangers to get a good spot, stomach the support acts, watch the main act, go home. At a club, you roll up late doors, have a few drinks, maybe dabble in recreational narcotics, dance like a fupping idiot, before copping off with something you shouldn’t before retreating to the taxi/nightbus/nearest hedge.

Combining gigs with clubnights usually makes everyone feel awkward. No-one wants to dance before the band comes on – their instruments stand unattended on the stage, like a particularly stern parent. At a regular gig they can be ignored – we’re not doing anything other than standing around, we’re not here to interact with each other, and ‘they’ are part of the furniture you expect at a gig. At a club they seem to sneer at us, casting judgement upon our revelry: “Heh! You’re just dancing to someone else’s records, you plebs!”

Well, London indie-student Saturday night stalwarts, the Afterskool club night, have broke with their tradition of just spinning whatever songs get the kids dancing, and last weekend, booked up-and-comers Los Campesinos! to play live. And yes, before the bad comes on at midnight, the place feels just like a particularly crowded gig, rather than a club night.

“Up-and-comers? Shows what you know, Granddad, their album ‘Hold on Now, Youngster’ has been out for ages,” is what I’m currently imagining some of the gig go’ers of last weekend are thinking after reading that. Or perhaps not – any semblance of putting on a façade of indie faux-indifference fades in the face of songs like ‘Death to Los Campesinos!’ It’s just impossible to affect a yeah-whatever-too-cool-for-(after)skool pose when seven people are having such a joyous time onstage.

Of course, fitting all seven members of the band onto that small stage does somewhat focus the fun, squeezing every last measure of juicy chaos out and pouring it out over the crowd in concentrated waves. Keyboardist/vocalists Aleksandra and Gareth have to swap places throughout the gig, depending on which one is singing which song. When lurking back, they each slip into the shadows created by the lighting rig – its not a planned exercise, but it works rather well. They are, quite literally, sharing the spotlight.

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