There is something very, very wrong with people these days. They don't know they're born. Some people can be presented with a spectacle of amazing quality and beautiful noise, and it goes completely over their heads. Like throwing strawberries to pigs.
This gig was completely upside-down. The first band, WONDERLUST, were a strange mix of power-driven pop, dodgy hip-hop, and MOR oddities (think U2, Dire Straits, more U2, and Maroon 5) - with some desperately strange yet enthusiastic shapes being pulled by the front man (punching the air, the odd Kung Fu kick, that type of thing). If anything, they were a classic example of a very talented band fronted by a bit of a twit who couldn't dance.
They opened with a nice enough intro which promised to open into something epic and U2-ish, until the singer threw a full on I-Cannot-Possibly-Work-Under-These-Conditions hissy fit, made them start again, and then (without a trace of 'irony') called the guitarist gay for nicking off with his hat.
After several dementedly entertaining power ballads with cheesy synth action a-la-Enya, the crowd were lapping it up and really getting into it. Most bemusing was the inter-band banter (i.e. thinly veiled hatred) - at one point the front man was exerting his authority on the drummer by motioning him to tone it down, in beat to the music. How he didn't come out of that gig with two drumsticks lodged firmly up both nostrils, I do not know. But after all that, they were good fun and it was amusing to watch a band who were enjoying themselves/arguing/bouncing joyously and sporadically, and generally being fairly unpretentious (except for the singer, who by all accounts was a bit of a diva).
The second support act, THE IMMEDIATES were great, and to be honest, after a shameless set of awful dancing, on-stage passive-aggressive bitching and outlandish epic pop (which I must admit, they did all of the above bloody well), the po-faced indie-punk rockers couldn't have contrasted more with the preceding act.
And finally, after the weirdest combination of support bands known to mankind, on came the wonderful, wonderful DIOS (MALOS). Quirky, clever, charismatic, you could go on - take our word for it, they're the dogs bollox. We're talking real quality here.
It was strange to hear folk-tinged Californian sunny psychedelia being played to a group of unenthused pale Londoners in a dingy pub in Kings Cross. And, it seems a cryin shame to say, it appeared that the lack of enthusiasm was on both parts.
The band ambled onto the stage and kind of stop-started, and at first it was uncertain whether it was a sound check or not. Anyway, once they got going there was no stopping them. Literally. There were few breaks between the songs, it was a bit of an odyssey, with one delicious 18 minute song after another. Joel Morales' vocals were both soothing and angry, and the music was gentle and frustrated - as much a part of the story as the lyrics.
Most of the set comprised tracks from their new self-titled album [Dios (Malos)]. You would have thought that their tracks, especially "Feels Good Being Somebody Else" (the one where they nabbed the "See how they run" line from Lady Madonna) would elicit some sort of response from the crowd, but they just stood there stroking their chins and nodding slightly. Maybe they were spent from their short but intense affair with Wonderlust? Who knows?
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Anyway, the limp and tepid audience reaction was one thing - the electrifying, uplifting, beautiful noise that Dios (Malos) churned out was another. The entire set started to feel a bit like a mega-mix as one song bled into another, with bittersweet melodies, heartfelt lyrics and all round exquisite song craft which gave this W&H writer goosebumps. Frustratingly, some of their older tracks were lacking from the set - '50 Cents' (which has a touchingly sparse tribute to the Beach Boys slap bang in the middle 8) and 'You Make Me Feel Uncomfortable', would have tipped this hack over the edge - it would have been awesome to hear those, but that's simply a matter of taste.
So the music was undeniably fabulous, but as was previously mentioned there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm from both band and crowd. Which begged the question, was their experimental, epic set a product of self-indulgence, or were they really trying to please their fans? Not that it matters very much, but still.
Towards the end it felt like an awkward date gone wrong, when both parties decide to go through the motions to prevent looking impolite. The crowd's lack of response was shameful, but also was the seeming indifference that Dios (Malos) gave back, which may have produced the downward spiral of mutual apathy. Once their set was finished there were a couple of lame whines for more from the audience, but Dios (Malos) kind of milled about for a bit and then decided not to bother. Which was a shame, because minutes before, they'd created a mind-blowing sound which nearly made our heads explode. Talk about anti-climatic.
The weird thing about this was, if you were to judge a band's performance by use of a Clap-O-Meter, then the mentalist support band would have scored more points by a long shot (not that we're into point-scoring here). Fortunately, here we know real quality when we see it. But it would have been better all round if Dios (Malos) had dished out a smidgen of grace.
They're still great though.
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