In the belly of The Cross Kings, York Way’s premier mildly mysterious pub-cum-venue, something strange is happening. Buttonhead are on stage and I’m not sure whether I’m at a gig or an elaborately artistic take on a game of musical chairs.
The drummer is now the percussionist. The frontman who was once the keyboardist has now become the ukeleleist, the guitarist has taken over the drumkit and the intimidatingly talented violinist picks up a recorder, having previously entertained on the spare drum, the keyboard, a tambourine and some wooden beaters the like of which I’ve not seen since primary school music lessons. She also indulges in a spot of singing.
It’s a gig-goers’ version of total football; artistic goodness that even if you don’t understand it, makes you draw your eyes inexorably towards it like an oriental tourist’s camera lens to the nearest random piece of architecture.
The set is as unceasing as the gazes upon it. Songs fall into each other so seamlessly that I think they technically stopped playing altogether no more than twice in the entire 45-minute set. It was like watching a slightly more mental Mogwai, only with extra violin and vocals.
When they did stop long enough to announce the title of the song they were about to embark upon, we got a choice of titles - depending on which member of the band you listened to. It’s a novel concept, although I’m not sure it’s likely to catch on in marketing circles just yet.
Amid all this esoteric eccentricity, there are some quality sounds seeping through. Despite the mishmash of melodies, it fits together with an authority not often matched by bands playing at this level. Treading the thin line between quirky and freaky, Buttonhead are also careful not to spend too long sounding too much like the sort of band beloved of people who call themselves ‘Orchid’, live in forests and believe that soap and Sky+ are somehow sinful.
There are three other bands following Buttonhead. Elle S’Appelle are a three-piece from Liverpool. They sound like, well, a three-piece from Liverpool. As each song ended, I found myself struggling to recall what it had sounded like. I remembered them being quite good, but now why, or how, and I leave with the single thought that the girl on the keyboards looks a bit like she should be in the Pipettes.
The second stage downstairs hosted Die Die Die, which predictably involved a lot of shouting and generally harassing the microphone as if it were an Asian in an airport and another band whose name escapes me as easily as their music.
Buttonhead are spending the next fortnight visiting the provinces, before returning to London’s Metro Club on April 26th.