Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros – The Old Vic Tunnels, London 11/03/11

On the whole, bands aren’t a particularly imaginative bunch when it comes to the format of their shows. ‘Turn up to whatever venue your manager drags you along to, wait for the support bands to finish, rattle through your set and bugger off’ is how it normally plays out, and to be honest – given the demands of an average touring schedule – it’d be churlish to ask for more. But it’s always a pleasure when a band puts a little more effort in, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros certainly pull out all the stops for their five-day residency at the Old Vic Tunnels.

Transforming the labyrinthine tunnels below Waterloo Station into a skewed recreation of the Wild West, the evening offers a breathtaking host of vaudevillian pleasures. Knives are thrown at innocent members of the crowd, gymnasts gyrate on ropes to the strains of “Duelling Banjos”, puppets are dramatically claimed by Death, the sun is worshipped in melodramatic fashion and zombie harlots shuffle around the bar in sinister fashion.

In a world where many bands seem to resent putting effort into their own performance, let alone anything else, the fact so much time and effort is spent on creating a full-on “experience” is immensely heartening, and results in a memorable evening before a single note is played.

Of course, it would be easy for the Magnetic Zeroes to hide behind the frippery and let their own set suffer, but that isn’t in the band’s nature. Marching through the audience bellowing the infinitely chirpy refrain from “Janglin’” at the top of their lungs, they immediately set the tone for one of the most joyous sets ever seen in the borough of Lambeth.

The thought of bearded, wild-eyed men and cute-as-a-button ladyfolk peddling old-timey revivalist singalongs may cause the more jaded muso to shudder in horror, but their rootin’ tootin’ charm brooks no cynicism; like I’m From Barcelona, you’d do well to leave your affected hipster apathy at the door. It’s not sophisticated stuff, but their infectious melodies, sing-along choruses and general joie de vivre makes for perfect escapism, and if you’re able to leave one of their gigs without a big grin on your face, you probably should start looking for the soul you’ve obviously lost.