LOGO MAGAZINE presents: Amp/Polar Remote/Undercut/Camera @ The Water Rats 17/05/04

On a spectacularly warm and muggy Monday, Logo Magazine offered up on a platter four very different bands showcasing their individual styles and talents - none of which were your average slice of indie pie…

…First band up on the stage were Camera, fresh from their support slot at Supergrass' recent sold-out show at the Kentish Town Forum. According to the bassist, that gig was fairly 'daunting' and overwhelming, but tonight they looked anything but overwhelmed, confidently playing a solid half-hour set. Opening with a basic thunderous summery song, driven by the natural duality of the two guitars, they fell into a more lovelorn yet fast-paced brand of indie, the vocals winding themselves around the crowd's ears, the chorus rushing through, the wonderfully striped drummer holding fort during the melody's meanderings. By the fifth song, the set became utterly compelling - this song in particular sounding very much like it should be a single, with its pelting drums and hammering chorus belting out the promise 'I will, I will, I will try to…' in abandoned honesty. Tiny electronic sounds bugged the last song out at its finale before ending with a storming sense of their future success - getting the crowd excited and being pulled in their direction, in their beams - their blatant enthusiasm to blame - before finishing on an abrupt note ringing out through the theatre.

The Bristol 5-piece Undercut followed suit shortly, spewing out dirty riffage, springing to mind the kind of beefy sound that the Rolling Stones would make trying to be the Beatles, undoubtedly helped by the inclusion of a Gibson SG to add that rock element, sweetened by the vocals. Whereas Camera were more self-conscious in style, Undercut were all purpose and intention, delivering typical lamenting indie blues ('Coming Back to Earth') and radio-friendly rock that wouldn't seem out of place playing at your standard local pub. Although I wasn't immediately struck with these guys, certainly by the fifth song 'Soul Food Mother' I started to enjoy them, with its wonderfully wiggly guitar intro which then cascaded into a faster guitar-pop song with both English and American hints to the sound. At times a little jarring and conflicting between guitar and drum rhythms, on the whole their success lies in the variance of their blanket guitar noise, drum tension and strong vocals and pace, the harmonies more interesting than the sole voice. Pleasingly, the last song of the set 'Sometimes' used the song's natural space to have the one guitar ringing out on its own before crashing back into the usual pattern, indicating a future for this band (and with Ian Grimble producing their first album, keep reading the music press).

Third band on Polar Remote changed the atmosphere and mood completely with a psychedelic intro, the Moog bubbling over the crystal-clear drum start, immediately warranting the various Flaming Lips/Mercury Rev comparisons, at least in the initial vocal style. Playing with tempo and momentum via drums, Moog and guitar, all instruments combined resounded in a sonic climactic rush. The second song in had a more straight-forward approach to its introduction, but my eardrums and mind were still split over the varying noises going on in this melting pot. A striking point about this set was the lack of fakery about it - any highly strung moments were naturally part of the performance. Next song along 'Moscow' showed a slightly more mellow side, except for the frontman jittering about, the scratchy guitar backing the soft vibrating howl of the vocals, the bass providing the underbelly, before galloping wildly into the outro. An electric mix of distortion, feedback impressing on the crowd like radiowaves, and classic emotive tonality as in the last song, Polar Remote certainly had the power to compel an audience into watching them last this very physical set out.

After a few technical blips to start, visibly annoying for them, Amp stared from the stage with a backdrop of pure piercing sonic noise, the singer casting an unwavering and icy gaze before launching into a performance of haunting and plaintive vocals, whilst the instruments coaxed a white noise out and around the room. Completely different from the preceding bands, they emitted strange mists of sound, rhythms and shapes thrown by the bass and guitars, the banshee-like vocals turning up the heat and the volume like a call from the wild. Extremely confrontational, the dark thuddy synthetic drumbeat complimented the Armageddon guitars, sliding from dance-orientated stylings to gentler piano sounds - 'Implosion' perfectly illustrating their more considered side and the grandeur and destruction in their music. By the last song, little bullets of noises were fired like a multiplying virus, dark disco undertones driven by the artifice of drums via a laptop computer, squealing feedback bringing everything together in a graceful cacophony of searing noise.

By Kate Etteridge

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