Monday, June 9, 2008

The Long Blondes at the Troubadour. Los Angeles. June 4, 2008.

The Long Blondes are small proof that the NME will piss hearts all over anyone who's not the Fratellis, and while some like their bands to wear the disguise of a big, fluffy fashion parade, the style's not exactly fit to withstand time.

I can't forgive guitarist Dorian Cox – or rather, his pants, a bulge-tastic second skin. Cox's mouth took on a bitter shape most of the night, perhaps due to the technical difficulties that kept up, or perhaps in wishing he'd chosen the next size up.

Frontdiva Kate Jackson's simply a star, meanwhile – she's rather good at being fabulous. Kate urged the adoring fans to buy her a drink, and someone bought Kate that drink. Why'd Kate get that drink? Because Kate's just that fabulous. She was also a bit shrill during “Separated by Motorways,” and seductive, sort of, on “Too Clever By Half.”

In frankness, the Long Blondes are the disco of the English indie world. Their style is danceable and glamorous now, but fuck if it won't look laughable twenty years from now. Live, their songs blended together in a sort of indistinguishable run of shiny, glittery glam, and no, they're no more memorable on record. But they're good for a single night of that thing called “a good time,” and on the last night of their U.S. tour, when drummer Mark Turvey played Darth Vader to stall time during an aforementioned technical mess, and Emma Chaplin and Reenie Hollis were overshadowed by their Debbie Harry counterpart, attractive girls and attracted boys danced, boozed and flirted their way through, knowing this one night stand was a much-needed shedding of inhibition.






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