|
Live Review - Pretty Boy Floyd, Robin Black and the Intergalatic Rockstars & The Plastics @ The Underworld, Camden 10/2/03 By Alison.
When London natives The Plastics are shoved out on stage at a premature 7.30 the Underworld is still decidedly empty. Toning down their act several shades since their face-painting-blood-shedding-dollar-bill-tossing antics supporting Bubble last year there still seems little point in frontman Stu's tirades against manufactured pop and President Bush for the sake of 20 early-birds still keeping a polite distance from the stage in the pit area. Still, minus the stageshow The Plastics prove their songs stand up to scuritiney without a haze of photocopied money and tomato ketchup, setting at least a few hips swaying by the end of their set with their catchy combination of Kiss-style big riffs and punk fire and fury. The Plastics are content with a few hips a shakin Robin Black has his sights set on something far greater, for this the Intergalatic Rockstars debut London show. Bounding onto the stage a mass of fake fur, blue hair and pink spandex trousers the 'More Effeminate than You' Canadian boldy proclaims "By the end of the evening we will be your new favourite band", before adding the promise "And we will fuck some of you later". Typical of Black's boundless egotism the statement, would, on some, look just a tad laughable in the tall orderstakes. But a man so much a rockstar he can wear sunglasses indoors, at 8.30pm in British February surely he might just be capable of worming his way into your ears and your heart in the space of a 30 minute set? As for the pledge to fuck some of us by the end of the night, by 'Some of you boys and most of you girls will love me' second song in surely most of the room, male or female wouldn't turn down the offer. Equal parts Rachel Stamp and Warrior Soul they seduce the spectators into submission with an irresitable brew of high-kicks, killer hooks, catchy-as-fuck closer 'Sick of You'. Glam-pop energy on 'Candy Flip', razorblade hips and eyelinered suggestive winks. By the final note, you've got no choice, I know they're my favourite new band......
Its a hard act to follow and one that even established headliners Pretty Boy Floyd seem to be struggling to meet with. A piece of Glam heritage of the same pedigree as Faster Pussycat and L.A Guns, and no doubt an influence on Robin Black, its a little sad to see them upstaged by such a bunch of young upstarts. Led by last remaining original member Steve 'Sex' Summers, hairsprayed coiffures a-flailing they're up certainly a motely bunch nowadays. While its an exhilterating joy to hear tracks like 'Good Girl Gone Bad' 'Leather Boys with Electric Toys' and 'Rock'n'Roll Outlaws' alive, in the fleash and accompanied by fist-pumping front rows as intended Leslie's mysterious jittery-fingered, sniffily-nosed bass playing is a perrenial dampener on the sound. The set plods on with high points surfacing in the likes of '48 Hours to Rock' and the kind of comedy moments cock-rock just so well lends itself to when Leslie rips off his shirt to reveal the eyelinered ledgend 'Fuck Me' scrawled on his chest, clearly wanting to muscle in the action the Intergalatic Rockstars claim to have in line for later. Of course its all good fun and the genre that produced the chouros to Love Gun was never supposed to be rock-science but you can't help but feel that Pretty Boy Floyd have got so shallow they're just going through the motions. For all the 'Fuck Me' posturing you can be assured that with cocaine jitters like that they're not up for the ride.
|
