Wild Beasts ••••, The Teenagers •
T on the Fringe, Cabaret Voltaire, Edinburgh, Mon 27 Aug
Having already missed a trick by rocking up late for the lo-fi electronic sing-along of Baltimore’s Dan Deacon, The Teenagers made for my second disappointment of a still young evening, the Anglo-Franc scenesters trotting out their lewd new-wave pop anthems in fey, half-arsed fashion.
So thank Christ we stuck around for Wild Beasts, for they proved unruly in a most joyous and unexpected way. The lead singer sports an abhorrent ’tash and sounds like Kate Bush in labour, and the band model dreadful mops to a man, but you have to admire the balls of a group that must surely have suffered a kicking or two in their native Kendal – individualism being forcefully discouraged in such parts.
Like Ramones taking punk to Spector, Wild Beasts are justified in introducing the energy and youthful exuberance of Arctic Monkeys to doo-wop and concert hall crooning. God only knows what would’ve happened at the ’55 senior prom if Doc had sent Wild Beasts back in Marty McFly’s place but things would have looked and sounded very different indeed when they got back to the future.