Gig Review: 'Eat Shit' Carved into a Lemon

The Lovely Eggs, at Brighton West Hill Community Hall, June 13th 2009

You may already know that I am a great fan of The West Hill Community Hall.

It's the perfect venue for quirky bands. Some bands are quite capable of inventing their own razzmatazz, whether by music, banter, style or costume. Hooray for them.

West Hill Hall is basic. Imagine, village. Along the walls, seats are stacked in rows. There is the odd electrical socket. Tables appear when called for. The Pet Shop Boys and West Hill Hall might not gel. I'd like to see their faces.

The Lovely Eggs are an inspiring couple. Watch them and you might wonder, "Why isn't my relationship like that? Why don’t I go home with boundless enthusiasm to create something out of my random and wide-eyed thoughts? Hang on, why don’t I have those thoughts, I used to when I was six? And, why don't I spend time, with my very own sex bomb, turning daydreams and the oddness of life into art?"

Well I do, don't you?

David Blackwell and Holly Ross are married. They spend their time making happy songs. Sometimes their songs are a little too silly, but that doesn't matter. The songs are made with love, presented with love, and always with one foot on the ground. Sometimes twee bands forget to keep one foot on the ground. Bantering about sunburn, and softly ridiculing each other, helps. Trashing away at a guitar and shouting helps too.

The quite fantastical ditties, from the album 'If You Were Fruit', found themselves with a precursor. Of course, every song is 100% logical to a free mind, but an explanation can only help.

The Lovely Eggs carry you with them. Our brain cells forget how to open the doors that stand shut in our day jobs. They rarely escape the tireless thought patterns that accompany the administration of daily living. The Lovely Eggs let your mind swim, with armbands and a pre-flight talk.

Holly Ross has a brilliant voice, an infectious smile, a naughty laugh and a tendency to giggle.

David Blackwell grins along. He thinks about all the wonderful things they've collected together. Some of the collection sits before him. Coconut shells and bicycle bells included.

Here's what I'm thinking. If I tie a coconut shell to my bike, which already has a bell, do I have my own drum kit? A mobile drum kit?

If I was in The Lovely Eggs, the answer would be 'Yes'. Without pause. I guess.

And every day, I'd tie something new to my bike and make my drum kit bigger, badder, weirder. It would be a thing of wonder. I'd have cushion on the back. On it, a talented musician would thrash away at a guitar and sing like a fallen angel.

Fabpants Recommends:
Last September, I recommended a Let’s Wrestle track, as a pre-Bestival taster.

Due to onsite flooding, I didn’t see Let's Wrestle. This is where I pull a sad face. The Let's Wrestle album just released this summer. It's called 'In the Court of the Wrestling Let's'.

I'm not going to say that it's the missing part of your MP3 collection. It won't have you dancing til dawn. It won't make you cry. And it won't cure cancer.

It's an instantly comfortable release. It's on the level. It makes me feel warm. It's spiky, without spearing souls. It's thoughtful, without being pretentiously philosophical. It is bouncy without the rave. It's like a best mate. It's not perfect. It lives in the same place as most of us. On the ground. There are highs and there are lows. Chewing gum pavements, mud and fallen pennies are never far away.

Download MP3: Let’s Wrestle - My Schedule (courtesy of polaroidallaradio.it)