Apparently not named after a Nottingham Indian takeaway, this was the band beginning to come of age.
Date: October 17, 2011
Venue: Rock City
There are some bands who you watch who simply wash over you. Their presence isn’t strong, their music unmoving.
Bombay Bicycle Club aren’t one of them. In fact, they’re the polar opposite; the mirror image of your average indie/folk/nu-folk band or whatever genre they prefer to plonk themselves in.
Watching BBC at their best -which they are tonight – banishes any downward feelings for a few hours. They’re just five lads from Crouch End, North London, who quickly realised there was money and fame to be had by tapping into a rich vein of indie-folk before you could say Mumford.
They’re music is meticulous, often quietly serious and pensive, and yet they can switch elegance into a gnarly maelstrom as they wield their guitars, creating wide-spaced patterns of sound.
From harmonies to growls, sweeping melancholy to frivolously jolly, BBC, it would appear, have a depth that few bands can boast of.
Aesthetically, Gok Wan would be tearing his quiff out. They look like geography students lost on a trip to Gibraltar Point. But fashion ain’t their focus, music is.
They’re tight, together and an organic marriage of styles. Who can out-do Vampire Weekend in the modern afro-beat stakes? BBC try the hardest on Lights Out, Words Gone, and succeed as far as their adoring fans are concerned.
Chiming guitars introduce debut album highlight Always Like This, and with that, the place trembles and throbs like the San Andreas fault getting twitchy.
BBC are expanding their sound. From pathos to joy via heartache, this is a club worth visiting.