The Art School is a place I’ve walked past on so many occasions but, until now, have never had reason to set foot inside. I suspect my misgivings come from students naturally being its main clientele. And so far I haven’t been proved wrong. The place is full of them! I tell myself to get a grip, take a deep breath and walk with purpose around the cider-and-beer-drinking few and head to the… Actually, I’m not sure where it is. Potentially making myself look slightly foolish I make my way to the bar to ask when someone else nips in front and asks the very same question. Oh, good; I can follow them.
The venue downstairs is almost a whole other story. Upstairs may be wall-to-wall with students but down here it’s very nearly empty even though the doors opened at 8pm. Maybe it’s cool to be fashionably late and stumble in just as things get going. 9pm and I’m getting a bit antsy but then I never was one for much patience. Looking around, nobody else seems to mind much. Despite the small crowd they’re more than making up for it with constant chatter and laughter.
Whilst there are some, like myself, who perhaps wouldn’t pass for students it’s very clear that the majority of the gathered few are under the age of 25. Suddenly I feel a little out of my depth. 9.20pm and the noise is damn-near deafening – but not from the stage. Nothing has happened on that front as of yet. 9.30pm and finally there’s some movement from Edinburgh’s The Machine Room. About bloody time, too.
The background music stops but the noise of chatter continues. The drummer bangs a drum or two and still nothing. A minute or so into their first track and the chattering dies down a little and is therefore less of a distraction. A closer look at The Machine Room reveals that only the drummer shows any sign of life and enjoyment. Everybody else is doing that – no pun intended – Art School blank stare of “we’re cool and don’t you forget it”, and almost intentionally avoiding making any kind of eye contact with anyone at all. The vocals are painful; even the singer looks like he’s in pain. The overall sound is fun, though. It’s upbeat and angular but only one brave soul is daring to dance even though you can see that half the crowd want to dance, too. Everyone else? Yes, they’re still talking but they do offer a rather disappointing smattering of applause after each track. A quick change of instruments and this time the only female takes over on vocals, and I find myself wondering why. Off-key and no presence is no way to go, and they soon switch back. The crowd don’t seem too fussed although some of the crowd are at least trying to look interested. Actually, there are some fabulous pop tunes going on here it just needs neatening and tightening up a bit. And again with the pitiful applause.
The crowd have slowly increased – almost as if they didn’t want anyone to know they were coming. Or they just ended up here with no recollection of how or why. They announce the last track and somebody somewhere “whoops!” – A little harsh I think, but the band takes it on the chin, laughs and plays it anyway. The Machine Room are ok, really. Actually, come to think of it, get a decent dance beat behind it, a touch more bass and it could be somewhere close to brilliant. The crowd increases evermore and so does the noise… and then somebody hands out glow sticks. Ok. So where is this one headed?
My question is answered mere minutes later when Vigo Thieves take their place and burst into song – brilliant pop-inflected indie-rock that’s easily danced to, as proved by the dedicated ones at the front. It appears that Vigo Thieves tick all of the boxes in an instant. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that and I have to say I’m impressed. The now obviously predominantly student crowd has gone utterly and happily insane.
The energy is undeniable, inescapable. It blows the socks off The Machine Room. What took them almost their entire slot, Vigo Thieves have it down within the first track. The atmosphere is positively alive. The downside? This place is far too small for a band with a sound so big. And being a mere five-foot-two in this crowd is kind of rubbish. The third track, titled ‘She’s On Fire’ is a little slower in tempo than the previous but the power still remains. Unfortunately, by now a few small pockets of people are attempting to have conversations with each other. Thankfully the band is far too loud for the offending few to be heard. The tempo picks up as does the already electric atmosphere.
Just when you think they’ve lost their fire a little when there’s a slight lull between tracks, Vigo Thieves and the audience prove me very wrong. A few more dedicated soldiers have wriggled their way to the front, all armed with at least one glow-stick, and together they make one heck of a racket. The masses from the middle backwards really have lost their spark but they do at least make some kind of noise at the end of each song.
By the last track, they’re back to the high energy and they pick the pace up once more. And clearly this is the one that the majority know, with a large number of them singing their little hearts out and waving their glow-sticks like madmen, a handful even joining the band on stage and bounce as if their lives depend on it.
This is by far the best crowd response I’ve seen in quite a while. Vigo Thieves are clearly on to something very special and are surely set to make some very serious waves.
