Ah the perils of actually interacting with bands and watching your objectivity vanish into the distance.  The Steeples were hanging around before and after their gig and came across as such a sincerely enthusiastic group of really, genuinely nice lads that I really, really hope they do well just on that basis alone.  Watch them play live and the number of times you catch any two members of the group grinning ridiculously at one another, as if playing this gig was the single best thing that had ever happened to them, is just silly.  You can imagine, I hope, how that sort of  boundless enthusiasm spills over into an audience: what fucking brilliant fun to see, these guys are.

I think perhaps the most obvious and instructive comparison to make, although they may not thank me for making it, is with The Fratellis.  Indie-snobs the world over turned their noses up at The Fratellis somewhat, which is something I find partially undeserved and irritating.  The album itself was a splendidly catchy and eminently enjoyable slice of indie pop which I think it is just plain churlish to sneer at for seeming a little lightweight.  That said, The Fratellis’ big failing, one which The Steeples highlight strongly by their difference, is that with the exception of the drummer they sucked sweaty donkey balls live.  Two thirds of them just couldn’t play.

The Steeples, on the other hand, have no such problems.  Live they are really, really tight.  The sound is similar to The Fratellis alright, albeit with a much bigger debt to ska, but the playing was light years ahead.  If you fancy a really fucking good night out, I wouldn’t recommend many bands above The Steeples.

That said, recorded, I think a lot seems to have gone missing.  The infectious joy and energy of the live performance is not really there, if you ask me.  Over-production would be my first guess, but who knows how these things happen.   Either way, perhaps be cautious about the records, but definitely go and see them live.

The Steeples – Tight Tina

myspace | buy single

It’s quite a quiet week in Scotland’s capital, which isn’t a bad thing. I’ve been to a lot of live shows recently and a week of coming home, reading a book and going to bed at a reasonable hour having imbibed nothing more potent than a cup of tea will be good for my soul, my complexion and my liver. There are a couple of highlights though, so have a mind for these shows if you feel the itch:

Monday 4th February: Alex Cornish at ARK.
I really liked Alex’s debut album, almost despite myself actually, and he came across as a really nice bloke when I was reviewing his stuff. It’s melodic and winsome and popping up to ARK to see him live will only do you good.
Alex Cornish – Until the Traffic Stops

Thursday 7th February: The Steeples & We Were Promised Jetpacks at Henry’s Cellar Bar.
The Steeples are on one of these annoying labels that only allow brief snips of songs on their MySpace page, which irritates the shit out of me. The tunes aren’t bad though, so I think I’ll go along and give it a go. These two are both fairly well spoken of indie-pop acts of the NME-pleasing sort, so no idea if they’ll turn out to be any good or not, but it seems worth a go to me.
The Steeples – Loosey Lucy (Edit)
We Were Promised Jetpacks – Let’s Call This a Map

Thursday 7th February: Rob St.John & Dan Heywood at The Collective Gallery.
I don’t know if Rob would thank me for calling him the heir apparent to James Yorkston’s Hush Folk Throne, but that is very much how I would describe him. He’s bringing a full band to this set, saws and all.
Rob St.John – Wooden Rose

[Update - thanks Bart!]
Friday 8th February: Club Welto (HMS Ginafore, Wounded Knee and others) at The Village in Leith.
HMS Ginafore is one of the founding Fencers, and I know very little about Wounded Knee beyond the fact that he ploughs that experimental folk furrow that seems to be so popular around these parts at the moment.  In any case, it looks like being an excellent night, and The Village has a really good habit of putting on excellent things.
Wounded Knee – Anthem