Surfer Blood – Scala, London, 09/03/11

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All photos by Steven Walker

Because it’s against the journalist’s code to tell a lie, I’m going to have to be honest here: I really didn’t want to go to this gig. I’d had a shitty day at work (a Wednesday no less. Fuck Wednesday, man), I’d been in Scotland over the weekend, I was knackered, and I’d eaten loads of pancakes a day late, probably upsetting Jesus in the process. We all know how he hates people eating flour-based fried produce in between Shrove Tuesday and Egg Weekend.

All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch Seinfeld.

Ungracious bastard, I know ­— The Line of Best Fit work hard to get me into these gigs and all I can do is moan about eating too many pancakes and having a hard day in my cushy City job.

But a sense of duty prevailed, and out of loyalty the army of fans out there who so desperately need to know what a nerdy Yorkshireman thought of yet another obscure American indie band, I dragged myself down to King’s Cross. You lucky, lucky people. I arrive at the Scala alone, tired, and find a decent vantage point on the balcony. Can of Red Stripe in hand, I patiently wait for the band to emerge, thinking about all the different ways in which I could have been asleep at that moment.

Onto the stage wander four slightly awkward looking Floridians, the crowd cheer, and I emerge from my stupor. About ten seconds into ‘Floating Vibes’, the opening track from last year’s excellent Astro Coast, I realise that this is exactly where I need to be. The Red Stripe starts to kick in and Surfer Blood’s effortlessly cool brand of indie rock transforms this little corner of Camden into an east-coast beach party. Lead singer John Paul Pitts told me on ‘Take It Easy’ that “we must take it easy / or we will both be sorry.” A wise man.

The band are in jovial mood, aided by the fact that it’s guitarist Kevin Williams’ 21st birthday, a fact of which Pitts reminds us between just about every track, encouraging the crowed into choruses of cheers, though the rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ he seems to be looking for never quite arrives en masse.

Williams is only just over a year my junior, and yet this somehow has the effect of making me feel very old, largely because I didn’t realise this band were so young. Surfer Blood write deceptively complex tunes with a maturity that defies their youth, and yet it’s their youthful personas and energy that make the set, as Pitts camp-dances around the stage, conducting his band-mates, rallying the crowd, making his guitar wail with feedback.

There are shades of both Avi Buffalo and The Wave Pictures – in both the awkward-chic stage-presence and the casual way the band segues between rocking-out and chilling-out. Pitts’ vocals are stronger live, deeper and richer: whether it’s the course of a lengthy tour taking its toll on his larynx or an effect of studio trickery, I definitely prefer the rawer, weightier voice he gives to the songs live. Similarly, without the sheen of the production that was layered onto Astro Coast, TJ Schwartz’s bass takes on a more visceral, meaty tone, at points sounding like a Kim Deal bassline, most notably during David Lynch-tribute ‘Twin Peaks’.

By the time the band finish their encore with a seven-plus minute rendition of ‘Anchorage’ they’ve played the entirety of Astro Coast with the understandable exception of slow-burning ‘Slow Jabroni’, and bashed out a couple of promising but rough-and-ready new tracks. The only disappointment was that there was no reprise of the cover of Guided by Voices’ ‘Game of Pricks’ that they’d debuted at their last London gig back in December.

With youth and talent on their side, there’s no excuse for Surfer Blood to not go places in the future. Also, if you need a hand getting over your mid-week malaise, they’re pretty good at that too.