Dananananaykroyd – Portland Arms, Cambridge 31/03/09

Sometimes it can feel as though you’re meandering through life… going through the motions, so to speak. Everything’s a bit dull. A bit grey. What you need then, is something to shake you out of it – to smash your senses and kick you in the balls. Tonight Dananananaykroyd are that short, sharp blow to the head that make you realise you’ve been meandering. Where have you been all my life?!?

I guess the only thankless task on Dananananaykroyd’s current tour, is being their support act. It’s going to go one of two ways: either the bands just admit they’re not as good so don’t even bother to compete, or, you raise you game, reaching for the next level and pulling some fantastic performances out from the very depths of your being. We have a bit of both on the bill at the Portland.

Me My Head were first on, and felt oddly out of place. A little bit too polished with their Killers riffs and warm glow of saccharine pop-ness. It started promisingly enough – the riffs were meaty, the lyrics oddly heartfelt and delivered in a Brandon Flowers-esque roll of the words. However, this initial edginess was soon replaced by a warm cup of cocoa and a pair of slippers. Each song flowed nicely into the next, but without the impact of their earlier numbers. As people slowly drifted out to the bar, perhaps a rethink of their set list is in order to keep the public interested.

The band who raised their game this evening though, to compete with the Dananananaykroyd machine, were Dutch Uncles. Their debut album, released earlier in the year, had plenty of sparks of interest – skewing the math-pop genre back towards its pop roots. Tonight though, they bristled with an energy and directness that leaves that album looking rather flat. Live, their sound found itself bouncing between Clap Your Hands Say without the yelping vocals and Foals fronted by Daniel Bejar. Their alien rhythms owing more to obscure linear equations rather than the easier 4/4 math. Their front man had an eye-catching array of casual clothing bolstered by some dance moves that contorted his slight frame into a jarring, angular and shifting mess.

Well, that rather seat the scene for the bath of sweat that was to follow. As Dananananaykroyd took to the stage and promised us an all-inclusive party, I think most of the crowd thought we were in for a good time. What I wasn’t prepared for was just how “inclusive” this party was going to be. These guys believe in interaction – the majority of the band spent most of the time on the floor of the room, throwing themselves off the stage and climbing speakers to their hypnotic, and not un-erotic, hacksaw riffs and throttled vocals. Watching these guys perform is like getting a hit of adrenaline straight into your blood stream. It doesn’t matter that you can’t hear what their singing, or that these young men have a dubious line in humour (“This song is about young love… you know, *really* young love”) – It’s like being at a party where you’re the centre of attention.

As the temperature rises, the shirts come off and the dance-off begins. A disco interlude creates a circle in the crowd where each band member struts their stuff before (some seriously prepared) members of the public are invited to do the same. There’s then, when the last song rears its high-octane head, the chance to hug Calum Gunn… well, I say a chance, its not really a decision YOU make, as he just comes round and hugs you anyway. Which is nice, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s half naked and dripping in sweat.

The only problem with the entire evening was that it just ended far too quickly. That, and I’m struggling to convey just how good this band actually ARE live. If you ever get tired with live music, or feel just a little bit jaded, don’t bother with expensive retreats to the country: just get yourself a ticket to see Dananananaykroyd live. It’ll sort you right out.