Bringing the evening to life was the undeniably charming talents of Chloe Moriondo. Gambolling onto the stage, with no lights or fanfare, the most resonant part of her personality became immediately apparent- her unpretentious candour. With only a ukulele as an anchor, her warm vocals and honey sweet, tinkering melodies held the audience captive, as they followed her through a window – which for many could also be a mirror – into her imagination. The enthralled reaction of the room seemed to shock even Chloe herself into a constant thrall of thanks- not least when almost half of the crowd produced fuzzy ‘worms on a string’ that went dancing gleefully overhead. From the sugar-sweet ‘Silly Girl’ to the full-hearted, more produced ‘Ghost Adventure Spirit Orb’, it was the pure personality that glinted through the lyrics that instantly endeared Chloe to the sold-out room.The heart that beat at the centre of ‘Little Moth’ gave it an impact far greater than the glittering notes could have delivered alone. It was a message of solidarity, of hope, and of care that seemed to fill the room with a rosy glow. Tonight was about unity and friendship, a feeling which only grew stronger throughout the evening.
Striding onto the stage, with vocalist Jason sporting a long coat and swigging liberally from a bottle of wine, the self-assured, Gallagher-esque swagger of Californians Hunny was in full force- this was a band who knew that they would have no trouble in winning over the sold-out room.
And they were absolutely right!
From the first note of the opening track, the crowd rippled into life, the bobbing heads and waving hands emanating backwards, until nobody in the entire room remained stationary- it was truly a sight to behold for early on a Wednesday evening! The influence of the titans of indie was detectable in the band’s music as well as their onstage demeanour. Paying homage to the city’s musical heroes, both verbally and in the infectious sway of their melodies, the Venn-diagram of Hunny’s sound fell somewhere between the groove of indie starlet Sam Fender and the pop sensibilities of The 1975. Live, the band packed a more visceral punch than on record: tracks such as ‘Lula, I’m Not Mad’ were a party personified, driven by the guitars and rattling, electronic drums. Offsetting this were the summery synths of tracks such as ‘Change Ur Mind’, the rousing choruses of which culminated in a sound that was built for blasting out from sun-drenched festival stages. Though we may be a few thousand miles from the blissful California shores, and a few months from getting any sunshine of our own, the perfect earworm that was closer ‘Vowels (And The Importance Of Being Me)’, ensured that Hunny are not a band you are likely to forget by the time the summer rolls around!
Drawing the crowd back into the room, and seemingly pulling them ever closer into the stage came the night’s headline act, Cavetown. The atmosphere that radiated from the stage from the very first moment of the set was that of a dreamy, balmy summer’s night, or a cosy bedroom with rain pattering on the windows- soft and personal and candid. Though the majority of the tracks had acoustic roots, there were just enough soft brushes with electronic elements to push his sound into the category of alt-pop, with delicate keys and finely balanced effects woven throughout the chords of the guitar- and, at times, of a ukulele. The atmosphere was one of familiarity and comfort, personified by the carefully-selected chintz dotted around the stage. Soft, yellow lamps, cosy armchairs, and a large teddy bear, christened Patrick (who arguably stole the show around the midway point!) all made the large, packed room seem incredibly intimate. Equally artistic were the lyrics themselves, each one beautifully crafted. Poetic in their style, tracks such as the heartfelt ‘Green’, folky new track ‘Snail’, and the feathery ‘Lemon Boy’ wind, weave and ramble with all the bubbling elegance of a babbling brook. This softness was reflected in Cavetown’s understated and humble disposition- at only twenty-one years of age, the magnitude of the influence that his words had on the packed room seemed as incredible to him as it was to anyone else. In contrast to all of this, the sherbet-sharp fizz dabbed onto tracks like ‘Juliet’ should have felt jarring- but, on the contrary, their sharpness cut through the buttery sweetness in a welcome contrast. As the night laboured towards the close, this veiled bite reached new heights with ‘Devil Town’, the hook into the chorus rousing the crowd from their reverie and kicking them into life once more. The most powerful lasting memory of the entire night, however, was the engagement and passion from the crowded room. From the moment the doors opened, their attention and devotion never wavered, as they sang, clapped and danced to each and every song indiscriminately. In a world where being aloof and nonchalant carries such social weight, seeing a crowd of young people throwing themselves, unrestricted, into enjoying and experiencing every moment of live music was wonderful to behold. They have found a voice that speaks to them, and that’s some powerful stuff.