Gig Review: The New Eves At Moth Club
Despite being set a high bar to follow, The New Eves, un-moustached and ethereal in white linen, waste no time in justifying the buzz around the group.
Silence is a peculiar thing. Depending on when it catches you, it can be either uniquely soothing, or frankly terrifying (there is a reason I still drift to sleep with the dulcet tones of The Thick of It echoing through the flat).
It is certainly not what you would usually associate with a Monday evening at Moth Club, especially with three of the most intriguing new acts to have emerged over the past year on the bill. Yet it is the dominant theme of The New Eve’s latest show in the capital, aiming to help fund an imminent jaunt across the pond to South By SouthWest.
The silence that permeates the evening is thankfully not fuelled by fear or a lack of engagement, but by a sense of reverence that echoes between act and audience. It is rare to find bands that are not scared in the slightest of serenity and pauses for thought, rarer still to find an audience with the patience to match. It is testament to the songcraft of all involved that we are able to enjoy being captivated without getting itchy fingers or wandering minds.
Pem sets the tone from the off with a delicate collection of songs as intimate as they are tranquil. It’s been a long while since I've encountered an opening act able to command such undivided attention from a still settling crowd, yet the quiet confidence Pem radiates accomplishes this with aplomb. Their set is littered with songs that provide a foundation for your mind to delve into your memories, treading the fine line between being evocatively detailed and leaving enough space for the listener to attach their own experience. The rest of the band vacate the stage for one song, with the drummer looking like the saddest hound in the pound as he watches on from the cage adjacent to the stage. Even this moment of unexpected levity is laced with a charming shyness that characterises the entirety of Pem’s set, built on patient songs that have you hanging on every word.
Next up are three mysterious moustachioed individuals going under the moniker of Joseph In The Backyard. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to Mary In The Junkyard, these unknown upstarts dial up the intensity of the evening, with latest single Ghost leading the charge in a set that veers between tenderness and chaos. The trio carry the endearing assuredness of a band who know they are onto something special and truly enjoy what they are creating together. Will they be able to emulate the success of their doppelgangers in Mary In The Junkyard? Only time will tell. Depends on how the moustaches grow out.
Despite being set a high bar to follow, The New Eves, un-moustached and ethereal in white linen, waste no time in justifying the buzz around the group. The opening song is a mission statement of a woodland chant, laying out in no uncertain terms exactly what the Brighton four piece are all about. What follows is, in their own true words, a ritualistic experience that veers wildly from its 60’s revival base into exciting and captivating new combinations. Vocal duties are shared generously amongst the group, adorning a perfectly paced performance that belies their relative inexperience. Such theatre is always in danger of falling into hammy territory, but the sheer likeability of The New Eves ensures this is never the case. With an utterly charming cover of The Shangri-Las’ ‘Give Him a Great Big Kiss’ thrown in for good measure, the crowd is left knowing it will be a very long time before they see something quite like this again.