In anticipation of their slot supporting The Wedding Present in June, I took it upon myself to go see The Victorian English Gentlemans Club at The Buffalo Bar. As singer Adam Taylor admits to me, he’s never heard of the indie legends. I suppose I should feel chagrined but twenty minutes later as they blast out opener ‘The Tales of Hermit Mark’ all such thoughts evaporate. The VEGC (as I am going to have to abbreviate them) are spiky and powerful. They lurch menacingly from one thundering verse to the next as the meagre crowd eye them suspiciously yet appreciatively.

The VEGC are made up of: Adam, blonde and bearded who sings and thrashes at his guitar. When the words come out he seems to be spitting the lyrics as is they were poisonous. Bassist Louise Mason is elegance-personified and possibly living in the wrong century. It’s as if one of the Brontes had written about a bass playing rock goddess. Meanwhile behind the two of them sitting in a pretty pink dress is drummer Emma Daman. She looks quite fragile and demure until she starts pounding on the skins like someone possessed.

The trio squawk harmonies at each other in staccato fashion. Artrock (they dislike the tag but hey – they did go to art school) channelled through the Pixies back catalogue. ‘Ban The Gin’ shows their poppier side although still contains wilfully obscure lyrics and a threatening tone. ‘My Son Spells Backwards’, a jumping stormer of a track segues into new single ‘Amateur Man’ and finally the atypical ‘Cannonball’ ends proceedings with it’s space-age noises and slow pondering pace.

Unassuming off-stage yet towering and menacing on-stage. The new paradox that is The Victorian English Gentlemans Club.
 

Leigh Hunt