Londoners have been besieged by cold for a week now. It may seem silly to whinge about cold in London of all places, however after our delightfully temperate winter we were not prepared for the frostiness to come. Before last week I had not double scarved or stockinged once, and now I am festooning myself with woollies every time I step outside.
And so, with chattering teeth and blue lips, we descended into the chilly gullet of Borderline just of Charing Cross Road to witness two hopeful Next Big Things. But by the time we had wrapped a raw paw around an over priced cider the cockles of our hearts were being warmed by the folky arrangements of Admiral Fallow. A wonderful Glaswegian indie outfit, with a delightfully sweet sound which is rounded by flutes, clarinets and tambourines, their sweet sounds soon flushed my cheeks and brought the feeling back to my toes as I began to tap them. Perhaps it’s a peculiar pleasure of mine, but I really love being able to hear a singer’s accent in their singing, and singer/songwriter Louis Abbott sounds so delightfully Scotland, he makes me miss my wonderful Scottish family. With his big bushy beard it is somewhat surprise that any of his singing actually reaches us, however it does, and this melodic voice combined with his sort of jerking motions about the stage, and humorous self-deprecation between songs, made for a very likable character. They ended with an acoustic version of Four Bulbs, which was absolutely exquisite and gave me the shivers I had managed to shed half an hour before.
So if you like Mumford and Sons, Noah and the Whale and the like, then Youtube these guys because they are a real treat.
Nicely warmed by the folkstars the crowd headed to the bar to replenish drinks before returning to their spots, determined to secure a good view for the main attraction. We, like many, were there to see We Are Augustines. From New York city, I last saw them in December where they blew me away with a free gig at The Wheelbarrow, and I was anxious that they should show me that same power again. For a three piece band (guitarist Billy McCarthy, bassist Eric Sanderson and drummer Rob Allen), they make a helluva lot of noise – it seems like there should be ten of them up there – and by the end of their performance you do indeed feel that they have nothing left to give, they are sweating and messy and spent, it’s wonderful to watch. With a slightly bigger stage available to them at The Borderline, their show was a lot more physical, with McCarthy flinging himself about the place, careening into mic stands and amps and his band mates, performing with the same passionate that he channelled to write his music. The Augustine’s album, Rise ye Sunken Ships, is based largely around events leading up to the death of McCarthy’s brother who suffered with drug problems and schizophrenia, and every performance seems to be soaked in the desperation and pleading of that period so that each song is emotionally charged. As my friend Tim (an ace BS detector) said: ‘I detect no Bullshit here’. Their live set seemed almost painfully honest, driving home the songs on the album with an edge of anxiety that cannot be faked.
But despite the heavy issues dealt with on Book of James and their other songs, they do not stray from the making of solid Rock ‘n Roll. Stuff that makes you bop and bounce and lash about. They sweat, and demand that the crowd do. Songs that sounds quite calm on the record are thrashed out, whipping the audience into a frenzy. They follow in the footsteps of Bruce and Tom Petty – great songwriters putting together great music with pounds upon pounds of passion. Needless to say by the end of the gig, we were well warmed up.
Listen to these guys if you like The Gaslight Anthem, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, or Bruce Springsteen.
