Now I can be predisposed to dislike a band that makes a cover song a prominent part of their set, it comes across as lazy and a waste of a chance to showcase their own skills. However, I wandered into the venue to be greeted by the May Birds performing a brief rendition of Crazy by Gnarls Barklay that was so striking in its tenderness and intricacy that I wrote down the words 're-imagining' and 'spilled forth' like I was the publicity team behind a vomit inducing horror movie remake. What I really meant, at that point, was that it was very good.
Now, if you were to look at the promotional photographs for this band then you could be forgiven for expecting a relatively morose, miserable performance. They clearly do not like smiling and they would look less out of place digging someone's grave in the moonlight than they do in their stereotypically alternative band picture. When singing, this image is distorted. At points you are definitely witnessing dark moments and a sense that emotion is sometimes hard to express but this is all draped in a thin layer of something akin to bliss. On stage, notes and voices drift between soft and soulful to powerful and grand. When the lead singer takes to guitar, for apparently the first time in public, there is an incredible outpouring of passion.
Songs progress through the odd combination of subtlety and overwhelming elegance. Roberto Cacciapaglia-esque sounds from string and piano sections frame songs expertly, providing the elements that are astounding at times and quietly fundamental at others.
It is very easy to make comparisons to the folk stalwarts of Laura Marling and First Aid Kit here, these guys are all ladies, after all. But there is too strong a hint of refreshing talent to make such simple comments, as the four women combine for moments of phenomenal beauty. There is an undeniable influence of the pop folk that is so abundant these days but even more so are influences and sounds from those that inspired the folk-plosion; Bon Iver, Johnny Flynn and stylings similar to Smoke Fairies noises.
Listen to them on their slightly confusing website... now.
The first thing you notice about Roobic is that you are being confronted by two impressive guitarists and an expert bassist. The notes are cohesive and built on consistent force. Then there are the drums. A steady, contained explosion of beat and progression. Next, the singer. The lyrics clutched in hand denote a level of uncertainty and lack of preparation. Once the singing starts, and it could be down to the sound configuration, but the band's weak link is revealed. A broken voice that is often struggling to be heard above the instruments and without any real union with the music around it.
Luckily, this does not take much away from the spectacle on show. Each instrument is played, from start to finish, with a confidence that relentlessly drives the material forward. A tumultuous ensemble of influences combine to make each song strong and distinctive. We delve into classic rock, funk, indie and soul to show off extensive talent and flexibility. This is not a band that has found its ultimate direction but it is on funkier tracks garnering sounds from long neglected archives of musical history that even the singer shines as another figure of fun and enjoyment on the eclectic stage.
In fairness, one of the best facets of this band is the lack of a 'main' guy. Each instrument supplements its surrounding whilst retaining its own idiosyncrasies and avoiding any unnecessary replications. Even the singer, when treated on the same level can be forgiven for short comings. However, when standing in front of a band with no instrument you need to demonstrate your worth as a strong vocalist. The voice should be loud, reasonably flawless and become a fundamental characteristic of the group. Otherwise, you do not need a singer at all. Roobic have the instrumental talent akin to early Yeti Lane work, and sometimes, that is enough. We were, at one point, privileged to hear the vocal talents of their drummer. After that, I would be inclined to advise the band go the way of Scrantonicity.
Finally, there was a guy that played after these two bands. Given that at least two bands cancelled on the night and no one had any idea of the intended order, or who this guy was, I have no name and therefore his review is pretty substandard. He was good, though.
At the forefront of neurotic music 'journalism'.
