Witches, Borderville

Wheatsheaf,

Oxford

13/12/08

 

The sheer strength in numbers at the packed Wheatsheaf is some sign of the respect Witches command not only among the spires of this famed seat of learning but ever outwards. The venue’s killer bill speak volumes though when you consider one of the supporting acts is  much-loved, impeccably dressed Borderville. Hailing from the ‘make-believe’ town of
Borderville, the foursome have long commandeered the city of

Oxford, steering its inhabitants through choppy musical waters.

 

Sticking out a fair mile with their characteristic vaudevillian pomp-rock from the canon of Queen or latter-day Muse, the true showmen are a pleasure on the ears and ostentatious spectacle. Singer Joe Swarbrick, a mass of hair sprouting from beneath a trilby, vigorously attacks his guitar  while pianist Woody Woodhouse’s fingers deftly snake across the keys, stage lights bouncing off his slicked hair. Fans have come to know and love classics such as the exuberant ‘Lover I’m Finally Through’ with its stabs of piano notes but the reception given to new tracks hint at future glories.

 

It’s creeping aptly ever nearer the witching hour before Witches saunter on and rip into ‘B.O.K.’ – the tune as punchy as its moniker. ‘In The Chaos of A Friday Night’ is an example of the harder edge the band has adopted and is peppered with percussion shakes, also showcasing Benek’s exceptional horn-playing. Frenzied frontman Dave Griffiths hops animatedly and wails into the microphone on vocally testing ‘Now You Have To Leave’ while bassist Jo Edge shakes a pineapple-shaped maraca. The ensuing majestic ‘Dead As A Ghost’ rumbles along on an ominous thunderclap of a drumbeat while new song ‘Crawling Down My Fingers’ rings of Beatles-esque saccharine-sweet pop. “This could be our last song ever,” exclaims the band as

Griffiths scales a speaker for the punky ‘Stammer’, maracas in hand as it wobbles precariously. Luckily he sees sense before a potential mishap and returns centre stage, resembling a praying mantis as his arms extend tendril-like to shake the maracas.

 

A clutch of songs by way of an encore bring us towards the witching hour. While the carriage may not have changed to a pumpkin, Witches have again put us under their spell.

 

Joby Mullens