The Hoosiers
HMV Forum, London
30/11/10

Holding three silver cylinders aloft to form a giant ‘H’, The Hoosiers bound onstage and parp jets of confetti into the crowd. Each tube goes with a bang, showering the front rows with silver paper and its luminous glint matches frontman Irwin Sparkes’ questionable silver hi-tops. Outfit completed by a blazer with sleeves pushed to the elbows, he is enthusiastic and eager to please, chattering excitedly between songs (Hellooo Kentish Town, we saw Fun Lovin’ Criminals here about 50 years ago!) and prancing around as if souped up on a neon cocktail of E-numbers and caffeine.

But pop bands can’t survive on enthusiasm alone, and The Hoosiers know it. Dedication to allowing their music the chance to do the talking is evident, but not in the quantity required to smooth the creases in what turns into an increasingly jerky, stilted performance. Opener ‘Choices’ is dispatched at breakneck pace with the trio, backed by a supporting cast of keys and extra percussion, racing to a halt that Sparkes follows with his first bout of jittery patter. With the crowd excitable down in front, the singer, feet still sparkling, is in his element.

The two percussionists soon turn from drums to tooting brass, tacking a bizarre ska breakdown onto the pogo-stick pop of ‘Made To Measure’ that invokes an unlikely mix of Eurovision and McFly’s earnest chart punk. After an (advisable) glug of water, the band coax out the saccharine balladry of ‘Everything Goes Dark’, it’s as subtle as they’re ever going to get and luxuriates in the combination of picked acoustic guitar and soaring falsetto. Like the UB40 inspired reggae-lite of an unnamed newie, it’s an intriguing diversion from their busy Europop. ‘Worried About Ray’, tonight’s clear highlight, is a watertight reminder that The Hoosiers are indeed capable of turning enthusiasm into hit-making.

Ben Homewood