FOE
The Thekla, Bristol
14/07/2011

Aboard the good ship Thekla, in the crimson-tinted gloom upstairs, the bar’s gridlocked. It’s a two-for-one promo night, which explains the swarming congestion of adolescence at the bar. Predominantly, young female students totter tipsily on high heels, assets out, all jostling for fistfuls of rum-based alcopop. Peering round, The Fly recalls a line from FOE aka Hannah Louise Clark’s scathing single, ‘Tyrant’: “Are you ready for the next big thing? Are you ready for a clown in a G-string?” The lyric expresses Clark’s ire at the suits who shamelessly peddle tacky pop smut. And, presently, her snide observation of innocence lost retains a wry touch of relevance, as scantily-clad teenies buzz dizzily and obliviously about the Thekla.

After twenty futile minutes skirting around the mush at the bar, The Fly gives up and leaves empty-handed. Sternside of the vessel, FOE have crept on quietly, and they face an empty dancefloor. Nevertheless, Clark and co. get their heads down and chug through a quick set of synthy trash-punk recalling the likes of Blondie and PJ Harvey. Onstage, Clark is naked of her familiar witchy, pink-wigged aesthetic, and as such, she and the band look real, well, dull. And that tonight, in essence, is FOE‘s problem: they just aren’t a spectacle, a presence, a reason to leave the bar. Moreover, they sound flat. Their template of rock-disco beats, fuzz-wonk bass and insouciantly delivered Peaches-like speech-rhyme is devoid of sex drive and grit – the stuff that makes the aforementioned inspirations so badass. ‘Genie In A Coke Can’ and ‘Tyrant’ are all top heavy on riffage, but lack the glass-hearted angst and hooky tunecraft necessary to get our pulses racing.

Jamie Skey