Sons and Daughters @ Cabaret Voltaire, 2 Dec
Sons and Daughters certainly provide some colloquial laughs and bare-faced iconoclasm, matched by their mesmerising stage presence.
Welcome to a night where Hull rhymes with shite, The Stooges are "boring fucks" and technical requests on volume levels are given in pubic measurements (a 'baw hair' to be precise). Sons and Daughters certainly provide some colloquial laughs and bare-faced iconoclasm, but it is matched by their mesmerising stage presence. Singer Adele Bethel shakes, shimmies and at one point seems to orgasm to the primal drums ricocheting like thunder claps across the venue. With new album This Gift on the horizon, the mixed-sex offspring don't bat an eyelid at playing as much new material as old. Referred to as their 'pop song', Chains nails the band's thrall to girl-group harmonies better than they've ever done. Of course it's the likes of Medicine and Johnny Cash (segued cheekily enough with I Wanna Be Your Dog) that gets the front rows moving, and rightly so. Calls for their Adamski cover are unanswered but tonight's show is a 'Killer' in its own right. [Darren Carle]