Hook and the Twin/Peace/Sister Gracie
Lock Tavern, London
12/06/2011

Owing to a lurgy and ‘oh-snap-it’s-raining-itis’ Blue On Blue are conspicuous by their absence at today’s Lock Tavern festivities. One look outside and you can’t blame them. On the other hand, for the economically baffling price of ‘completely sod-all’ you still get three exciting bands. Sister Gracie start things off with a showcase of songs from their recent creatively titled ‘EP’. Their live sound is decidedly more consistent than their scatter-gun approach to recorded influences, the laptop synths and riff-o-batics filling out the melodrama of rake-thin Max Walker’s full-bellied vocals. Darker, without losing their danceable hooks, only when the singer’s stage-spanning guitar struts and mime-esque contortions impinge on the consciousness does the camp underbelly peak above the id of Sister Gracie’s ear-scratching guitar magic.

Dropping beats and throwing bombs are Peace, four young lads on the ascendancy for whom space is the place, the sky’s the limit and ‘Foals plus post-rock’ comparisons are all woefully insufficient summaries. They barely squeeze gear and members onto the venue’s tiny stage and yet are hardly encumbered by the lack of available flailing room. Though the songs may meander ceaselessly they never do so without direction or dereliction of purpose. Even the tenderest passages are undercut with throbbing backbeats, adding muscle to the most delicate guitar swirls. The standout band of the night, watch them supersede any reputation that precedes them.

Opening with the testicle-retracting vocal gymnastics of ‘Bang Bang Cherry’ and setting the tone for the set to come, the now four-piece of Hook And The Twin dish out a masterclass of pulsating rhythms and shining vocals raising goose bumps so big you could have them frozen off on the NHS. Though their last and newest offering is understandably occasionally fraught, it is without doubt the group’s most emotionally climactic and bookends a night that rewards anyone brave enough to drag themselves out of bed on a rain-soaked Sunday.

Richard Ruston