Loyal Few

Red Shark In Vegas

The Milk And Honey Band

My first attendance at a Brighton gig for many years was on a bleak, rainy night. I'm dropped off at the Providence, which looks like a Weatherspoons or a Scream Pub, so I duck into the Bee's Mouth bar, opposite the venue, assured by the taxi driver of its renowned trendiness. Soon enough, I am ordering Japanese lager and watching the coolsters, with their variety of silly hats, pottering around in the tiny bar. It was tiny enough for them to install mirrors to give the impression that it was capacious.

The music was suitably anonymous. A lounge-style, lo-fi bass loop seemed to repeat forever. By the time my beer was over, I was ready to see some bands. I cross the street and head into the Providence.

My first impression as a Londoner of some years, that ran all though the night, was a reminder of how brutally ripped-off we are in the Capital. The lady on the door asked me for only one pound to gain entry, and I could barely repress a smile. But it is telling how outside London, the live music scene is a very different experience, with fewer bands of a higher quality.

First up, The Loyal Few, represented by the half-dozen or so kids lined up in front of the PA. Their lead singer, Greg, coaxes people forward, promising T-shirts to the wackiest dancers. They turn out indie-rock in the style of The Killers, Razorlight or The Kooks.

And the refreshing surprise is that these guys can play. Greg has a strong voice, and would probably give Luke Pritchard from The Kooks a fright. They announce their song, Sarah, obviously known to the growing audience at the front, which has a catchy, sing-along melody and reminded me of the Futureheads.

The Loyal Few look more like preppy college-rockers than Mod, but then they announce they're from Norwich. "No-one gets in or out of Norwich", Greg tells me after the show. On the other hand, It clearly has its benefits. Their tight performance tells of a rehearsed band, well-incubated in their East-Anglican province.

Following on next, Red Shark In Vegas play to the now warmed-up audience at the peak of its size. A three-piece of acoustic guitar, bass and drums, they nonetheless keep the energy going with a tight performance, getting better as the set went along. The lead singer Tom had settled in by the second or third song, and delivered a vocal that reminded me of Joseph Washbourn from Toploader (He had neither dreadlocks nor a piano, however). They end on their signature song 'Tales of the Misled'. I wonder if I can relate to it or not.

Across the street, the rain coming down harder now, trendy Brightonians cower under umbrellas to artificially extend the Bee's Mouth bar onto the pavement.

The Milk And Honey Band end the evening, a five-piece rock outfit with a more sophisticated and intricate sound. Their keyboardist also plays guitar, alternating between them during the track. He plays the keyboard like a xylophone, hitting octaves and scales to support the melodies of the vocal and guitar. It might have had a U2 direction to it.

Their third song, entitled 'A Waste of Time', stands out. The four guitarists co-operate well, and don't step on one another, weaving together a mellow and moody sound. Overall, I can't say it was a waste of time, only an enjoyable couple of hours of live music. I'd reccommend all of the bands, and can say that in each case they sounded better live than they did on their MySpace pages.

The high-point of the evening was a delightful moment when I observed a deaf man in the front row expressing himself. He clearly knew the music as well as the words, because he was signing them to his friend, who was signing them back; a silent sing-along to the music. I don't know why I found that so touching, but I have never seen it before, and it served as a reminder of the universal reach of music.