Reviewed by Kate Moore

From the ukulele stylings of George Formby, to indie sensations The Verve, and not forgetting The Railway Children, Witness and those Starsailor blokes, Wigan has, in one form or another, always been synonymous with great music. So it was to little surprise that Deltasonic (A record label who’s name seems incapable of being written without including “Home of The Zutons and The Coral” in brackets) came fishing around to catch themselves some of the biggest fishes in our small pond, The Suzukis. Shortly after landing their deal, the band returned to Wigan and Kate Moore was there to witness the carnage.

Hype can be a beautiful thing or it can leave you feeling robbed. Tonight at Fever, things could go either way as the tiny basement fills up with Wigan’s faithful gig goers, waiting in anticipation to give their verdict on the recently signed and much hyped beast that is The Suzukis. Think about electronica and you are pelted kicking and screaming back into the eighties, it’s polyester doused in enough hair spray to create yet another hole in the ozone layer, or at least add to the one that is already there. Tonight however, we have electronica mixed with the latest in indie chic, very 2005 wouldn’t you say? Synthesisers and keyboards accompany each lazy guitar riff and bass-line that Dirty Circus serves up. With each beat the band positively swagger, drudging up a type of arrogance any parker wearing, beer guzzling, Mancunian would have been proud of ten years ago, when the music world was in love with Brit Pop. It is the confidence, and sheer front that keeps you watching Dirty Circus, they know they are good, and you are left waiting/hoping for a chance to believe them. The songs are well constructed, occasionally working their way into anthemic choruses, which manage to kick a somewhat static audience into life. The Loop take to the stage, and if you were hoping to hear another act, layering their rock with all the gadgets/synthesisers/pedals etc possible, you could not be more disappointed. However, if you like your music stripped down bare, please step right up. Two acoustic guitars meander their way through hazy Indian-esque melodies, that semi entrance you, coaxing you far away from this smoke filled bar in Wigan, to a much more exotic landscape. There is a gentle accompaniment from tablas, that strengthens the somewhat romantic and surreal Indian edge. Vocals soar over the delicate guitar, adding another layer of melody, so removed from the usual garage rock drawl, that your ears do not quite know what to think. What is certain is that this is music for staring at clouds to, music for every time the last thing you want is reality, created by people who could not give a toss what the latest craze is. They are ready to tell stories and I most certainly am ready to shut up and listen. Continuing with the summery vibes that the Loop left lingering about the place, Brothers With Different Mothers emerge. Straight away we are shaken right out of our semi-dazed state, as BWDM inject us with a sharp shot of pure energy, that proves to be highly contagious and, dare I say, addictive? Each band member is practically bursting with enthusiasm and, as they rattle through each song, they ensure you get caught up in it to. The drummer provides an intense, unstoppable rhythm, making it impossible not to at least nod along, when inside all you actually want to do, is drop everything and dance as if your life depends on it, and you have every intention in the world to keep living. With each strum, wail, beat, cymbal, the stench of chilled out August bank holidays is getting stronger. Brothers With Different Mothers should be made a mandatory accessory for every step you take this summer. After just about getting our breath back, Delta Sonic’s new signings take their place on stage. It’s evident from the first strum that the Suzukis are here to make a stand, against every piece of oh so “trendy” yet insipid indie rock that dared to rear its ugly head. The Suzukis are rallying against the current, endless stream of bands, each full of pretty boys with perfect haircuts, who just happen to have slung a guitar around their neck. Pounding drums carry along what could be described as 'a wall of sound', littered with lyrics full of simplistic social commentary, failing to hit home even half as well as those of a certain Mr Cocker. The front man clutches the mic, fag in hand, looking at the audience with an obvious distaste, which could be justified if he was a Gallagher, and we were back in 1995. The problem is we’re not. Agreed, the Suzukis are laced with a pent up aggression that refreshingly sticks two fingers up to every wannabe Libertines band of the moment but, unfortunately, they fail to offer up anything revolutionary themselves. Granted, The Suzukis are good at what they do, but since when has “good” ever truly been enough? 

The Suzukis’ Official Website: www.thesuzukis.co.uk

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