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 Look
there should be no need to actually tell you just how
good this band is. By now you have seen the ads, read
the reviews and heard that Top 40 gracing single, hopefully
even bought the album.
When announced it took less than a week for this show
to turn into a must-see, bugger-me-it-sold-out sell
out. Good work for a band that on this side of the Atlantic
was unknown before the turn of 2003. While we were praising
the Flaming Lips to high heaven in the UK, the HHH’s
debut album was a silent ‘Best Of Year’ winner in the
US and in their home country of Canada. But now we get
to share the love…
The band sent out to warm up the crowd were Moving Units,
buddies and touring souls of the HHH. They are a ridiculously
angular trio of LA natives who come in at the more punky
end of current garagey funk trend. Coming on like a
spastic Stretch Armstrong tub thumper Chris Hathwell
pounds out beats jolting every fibre in front man Blake
Miller’s body. He twitches, spins and spits like Iggy
on hot coals. A static energy slips from bassist Johan
Bogeli and put all together it creates a train-wreck
of unavoidable energy.
The Hot Hot Heat have just as much energy, but more
love just makes them a more grin inducing vision. And
smile like jesters we do, soaking up their joy at playing
to such an intimate appreciation society. Singer Steve
Bays can’t say enough how chuffed they are, we get thanked
warmly before and after every track, which is fine because
it’s returned ten fold by the audience. After an inch
perfect rendition of Touch You, Touch You, the
Stranglers-y pomp organ of Get In Or Get Out
assures us which way to answer all that love.
It’s easy to read too much into these song titles, No
Not Now’s chorus of “No, Not a secret a now” or
5 Times Out Of A Hundred seem to be saying that
this band is to be loved. They aren’t a regular find;
they are a love to share. For Naked In The City,
the opener on the excellent Make Up For The Breakdown
CD, extra bells come courtesy of manic Moving Unit Chris.
Such is the joy bouncing around that we have to reassure
the band what the day is, so lost they are in this performance.
Dante DeCaro flicks out note, note, riff then riff and
when drummer Paul Hawley sneaks a cowbell into the mix
the crowd lifts off again. Talk To Me, an anthem
for people not taking life too seriously, is a sure
fire single and it’s sung back word perfect by the crowd.
Le Le Low and Oh Goddammit, more could
be singles, are giddy pop pleasures, infectious and
full of that joy the band pervade. Come a few days after
the gig Hot Hot Heat have their first bona-fide hit
single. Bandages, radio ban or not, finds itself
mixing with euro-trance covers of 80s rubbish and charity
singles. Up against such drivel it shines like a beacon
and tonight it is a finale that finally lifts the roof
clean off. This show was the HHH’s first ever in London,
the last of only a handful in the UK and with a longer,
larger venue tour in May mostly sold out this Hot Hot
Heat love-in looks like getting smoochier and deeper.
SID for Crud Magazine 2003©
Relevant sites:
www.hothotheat.com
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