A Ritual for the Elephant & Castle

The Coronet
5 June 2009

Arrive to a conversation-nullifying full-frontal blare of electro-noise accompanied by mostly indecipherable performance art-speak, which proves to be the labours of two people standing near a laptop on a trestle table at the back of the stage. In due course they give it up and leave, and we are all the happier for that.

The mood in The Coronet is being set by lighting that flashes, flares and swoops from all sides of the space, with regular puffs of dry ice for added atmospheric and aromatic delight; this is certainly more than a mere concert, this is an event.

Photo by Anika

The cluster of drums in the middle of the floor shows us where Wildbirds & Peacedrums and their specially convened 'drum circle' will play, and from all sides they filter quietly into place, and taking their lead from Andreas the 15 or so percussionists, arranged in a literal circle hemmed in by the audience, eventually find a rhythm that gradually grows until the songs have something to spring from, and when they hit their stride it is a fantastic, stunning sound that takes the trademark W&P euphoric crash to a new level of tuneful vigour, with Mariam chanting and moaning and dancing in the centre of the circle, smashing drumsticks to bits and bashing cymbals with her hands or her tambourine. The crowd around shake or rattle keys or any noisy thing they have, unprompted, to add to the multi-layered rhythm.

We are only given a brief three song set, but they simply aren't allowed to leave by an enthusiastic crowd, and an unexpected encore is offered, and we smile. A bit more rehearsal time and we may have seen something perfect, instead we make do with a rare delight.

Chrome Hoof, then, are a conundrum - a ten-piece band with silver capes and fitted jumpsuits, a pair of vigorous dancers and all the OTT attitude, noise and posing that you might hope to see in a 'fuck me what was THAT?' act, who were actually surprisingly boring. Their armoury seems to consist mainly of a rock/funk hybrid (frunk, anyone? frock?) which, given their visual debt to P-Funk, feels as if it is missing the key ingredient, namely what Bootsy described as The One - the syncopated off-beat accent that funky music relies on, and without which all is lost. The first two songs have least to commend, although things improve from there for a while. And then we notice a horse, centre stage. Obviously.

Horse turns out to be Marcus Coates, matching Chrome Hoof in an all-silver suit, shirt and tie combo, his horse head like a mutant quiff, and he gives us Fuck Button-style animalesque squawks and shrieks for a few songs, backed by Chrome Hoof in 'invisible' mode, if such a concept is feasible. Finishing with some 'property-is-theft' themed spoken words and advising us to be our own property developers, he exits stage left leaving CH to resume their business, including a detour into what might be called Silver Lamé Metal (not too familiar with Metal sub-genres, sorry!) which was more convincing than their Frunk adventures, before returning to the sub-funk noise. A 'now you see me, now you don't' visit to the stage from a 12 foot tall golden bug - Mr Coates again, presumably - gets a quick witted response from the guitarist: "But you didn't even tell us your name!"

Stunning lights for the stage-based acts, with an inverted multi-faceted diamond effect focused on the centre of the stage particularly striking, somehow reinforces that whilst there has been a lot to look at there hasn't actually been that much worth seeing.

To describe the success of their evening elsewhere tonight in London, hipster youth would be able to say, simply, DAN. MOTHERFUCKING. DEACON! No such luck at The Coronet tonight, but we did have a bit of a Wildbirds & Peacedrums moment, and it was great.

EDIT: Film by Rockfeedback of the Wildbirds & Peacedrums set now online!