My first taste of Blood (Red Shoes) had me frothing at the mouth for more.

Date: March 3, 2010

Venue: Rescue Rooms

In 2006 Blood Red Shoes were firmly penned on every respectable indie kids’ ones-to-watch lists, and attractive axe lady Laura-Mary Carter played the dominant role in many an emotional teenage boys’ fantasies.

And perhaps the same can be said for her punk-rock drumming cohort Steven Ansell, a foppish pretty boy who’s obscured by his drumkit much to the annoyance of teenage girls everywhere.

It’s just the pair of them up there; a fearsome twosome passing vocal duties between them like a rock ‘n’ roll baton.

There have been those who have grumbled about their music being on a par with saccharine-tinged, identikit FM pop-rock. But it isn’t exactly pure pop perfection they peddle, hell no. It’s more a generous dosage of sugar-coated savage punk oozing a femme fatale spirit, with every instantly hummable, cranium-lodging tune coming with its own dusky shadow.

They’re a snarling beast of perpetual action. Laura-Mary’s guitar roars emphatically; she’s like a young PJ Harvey ripping open punk-rock megaliths with consummate ease.

Steven, meanwhile, is doing battle with his drum kit, assaulting it like it’s just labeled his mother something very unsavoury indeed. But he’s not happy; something’s got his back up.

“You’ll have more fun if you put down your phones and dance, I promise”, he scowls, enraged at the young throng’s persistent texting and social networking throughout the first two songs, before launching into ‘I Wish I Was Better’, which practically demands you throw some shapes regardless of how awkward they are. His salvo works, too, and with phones tucked firmly in pockets, the crowd respond and mosh gleefully.

Consequently, the ‘kids’ go berserk for the schizoid adrenaline rush of ‘You Bring Me Down’ and ‘Don’t Ask’, with the songs’ inherent unrest striking an emo chord with the masses in the first few rows, while latest single ‘Light It Up’ and epic closer ‘Colours Fade’ are the best cuts from their latest album.

From the cochlea-destroying din they make it’s easy to forget that there are only two of them up there. Proof positive, then, that good things do come in small packages.