Remember 'I'm In Love with a German Film Star'? There are 80s covers and there are 80s covers, but few acts are peddling this gem of new wave/post-punk in an intimate live set.
Intimate, you ask? In this case, fewer than a hundred people in a candle-lit pub near Angel, in
Glaswegian four-piece (but two-piece tonight) The Lotus Project have been around a few years. You could call them art-house, an old-fashioned term used affectionately in this case and
Maybe they're nu-art, but they are not as Portishead-a-like as I was led to believe; they're more star-gazing than shoe-gazing. In 1981 The Passions had their only hit with that 'German film star' single. The Lotus Project's cover seems to be a clue for their roots.
The Lotus Project is likeable for many reasons. For starters, they share half a name with the Lotus Eaters, and there's that superb late 90s REM single about eating the Lotus.
The venue is 'The Islington', a five-minute walk from Angel, and a relative newcomer to the
This evening, with only the duo performing, instrumentation is a drum, some bells and an electric guitar.
It's a sticky July evening. Beck and Bon Iver (good sound engineer) provide the soundtrack while Marie-Claire Lee tunes up and Signy Jakobsdittir assembles the limited percussion.
There's a tension on stage, but it's not nerves. It suits their sharp, angst-ridden songs. There's a voyeuristic nature too. Marie-Claire sings about undressing and watching undressing. There's a sighing, wanton edge that's reminiscent of Tori Amos's earlier records.
Perhaps unaware of the similarity, Marie-Claire's delivery and phrasing has much in common with the
"Kiss me like you were kissing somebody else" she sings. "Touch my skin, pull my hair."
Beneath a pop sensibility, the handful of songs on offer tonight has more in common with Nico or PJ Harvey at their more vulnerable. Marie-Claire has a voice that commands attention. The pared-back sound at the Islington offered breathing space for a soulful vocal that worked well with the spare percussion.
After thrashing through 'Take, take, take me out to dance, dance, dance tonight' (not sure if that's the actual title) there's one tune left but only five strings on the guitar.
"Do I need that one?" asks the singer, and she ends the 30-minute set with unnoticeable plucking limitations.
It's all enough to know that among the thousands of unsigned bands on the
Gig over, the fine sound man turns up the volume on Eddie Vedder's 'Big Hot Sun' and people head for refreshments and air - it's apt for en evening that was hotter than July.
Nigel Watts
