Iceage - Broadcast, Glasgow, Mon 25 Feb
Occasionally brilliant but otherwise juvenile and unimpressive show from the Danish punks
Whether deliberate or not, the looped screening of Don Letts’ entertaining documentary Punk: Attitude upstairs tonight is pretty apt. After thirty years of evolution in aggressive, rebellious music, it’s always going take an impressive level of effort and courage to create something truly challenging and dangerous these days. It feels like we’ve seen it all, right? So for people to be soiling themselves at the rise of Danish group Iceage on the back of two albums of garbled, unoriginal noise; well, it seems a bit much.
Admittedly, at Broadcast tonight they are loud, confrontational, and occasionally brilliant – when the hooks shine, and the smog clears; musically, the band are solid – but as singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt slinks around the floor, staring into the abyss, it’s hard to decide whether his contempt for the crowd and moody demeanour is emotionally charged or simply keeping up appearances. The fact that local tabloid journalists were sniffing around the merch stand earlier based on rumours the band were selling flick-knives (they weren’t) – on top of accusations of utilising fascist imagery – reads like a juvenile attempt at rocking the boat; perhaps because their rough-hewn jams aren’t exactly groundbreaking or significant enough to stand tall on their own merit.