The Infants were a noisy, brash group with a female vocalist clearly inspired by the little bands and no wave scenes of the distant past (think Lydia Lunch). They caused a suitable racket. Lost Animal was a solo male looking like a black tarantula, or David Johansen’s lost hair style. The love for Suicide was obvious. He slunk around and looked suitably distressed and moody.
The blistering cold of the Richmond streets brought Heaven Knows l’m Miserable Now to mind, before attentions returned to the stage. Black Cab should be global but remain local. Why they’re not conquering the universe is a pertinent question. Is it the general public that are misguided, or just those who think this band are supreme?
From the outset, Black Cab were a completely captivating trio that filled that Krautrock hole in your musical experience. As the drummer tub-thumped away like a metronome, the other two members handled electronics and vocals. The volume level quadrupled when they started playing and did not abate, sufficiently delivering the antidote to the weather induced sorrow.
Victorious, Combat Boots and Sexy Polizei were glorious, as was the New Order touchstone 5 8 6, which edged craftily toward the dancefloor. Black Cab blend electronica and alternative rock so effectively it is easily forgotten just how ambitious their music is. Hearts On Fire made a welcome appearance, and whilst sometimes the vocals came across as deadpan, the overall impact was impressively accessible.
Although the volume was overwhelmingly loud, it just stabilised the impression that Black Cab are a scorching outfit that cannot be manufactured.
BY BRONIUS ZUMERIS
Loved: Victorious.
Hated: Victoria’s bitter weather.
Drank: Victoria’s finest.
