Review: Brother @ The Ruby Lounge, Manchester

When: February 18th

Reviewed by: Kelly Murray

Opening with the Oasis-reminiscent 'Still Here', it almost seems as though Slough's mouthiest export (well, since David Brent's pop music debut) are momentarily backing down from the mild arrogance they initially arrived with. Perhaps a good move as they get acquainted with new-found fans.



If you want to hear some infuriatingly good pop songs this is a fair deal, but it's bad news if you only turned up for a pissing contest with an accent barrier. The cocky banter has admittedly paid off: this is a sold out show in a city they claim has influenced their musical tastes indefinitely. The shirted quartet ease into their first ever Manchester gig with a dose of gratitude but a hell of a lot of confidence. As much as we do enjoy the leather jacket encrusted swagger that these boys notoriously ooze, there's little evidence of it tonight, and everyone in this room knows it's time for the tunes to back up the bravado without any edits. We're not talking about falling in love with ripped demos on youtube anymore, tonight needs to be epic.

As the band launch rather excitedly into 'New Year's Day', an almighty homage towards 90's riffs, as if by arrangement, a Happy Mondays-esque line up occurs; not only is there a pretty, soulful backing singer wailing her lungs out under a subsequently melodic smile, but randomly, a Bez-a-like has also arrived to celebrate. The dancing culprit is minus maracas, but the band are having a ball. Security remove the, ahem, dancer once they realise he's not actually part of the band. "He's only having a laugh" protests singer Lee Newell as sweat beads decorate his newly-flush face. You'd have to forgive security though; there's more drug-fulled late 80's/early 90's sounds coming from the PA right now than there is on a classic indie anthems club night.Brother's Twitter later reads: "Had a first class Bez up on stage tonight, dancing and pulling out guitar leads. Ruby Lounge was a great laugh, cheers Manchester", a firm victory in conquering the Northwest, they feel.

Back to the present though, and the ever-charming 'Darling Buds Of May' (taking title from the ITV show starring Catherine Zeta Jones during, you guessed it, the 1990's) meets the sort of response this band must have prayed for, yet totally expected.



On to 'Time Machine' which states "Love is a time machine/Bringing you back to me", and at this stage, it has to be noted: although Brother do - so far - write music that Britain could so very easily embrace, lyrically, Newell isn't going to be the most inspiring songwriter this year. Their music feels like an intoxicating balance of something achingly fresh topped up by the familiar presence of Britpop and, a true cocktail of indie with attitude. They do, in all fairness prove they can hold their own on the live front, (even stray guitar leads can't hold them back), but the best bit is yet to come; the band's debut album is produced by Stephen Street who has worked closely with The Smiths, Morrissey and more recently, Kasabian. If anyone could bring revive the 90's with a heart beat from the future, it's Street.

After just thirty minutes and seven songs, Brother retreat to their dressing room. A hyper but still-expectant crowd want more; despite the band's ability to blow the cobwebs off many a veteran's tight set, their stamina hasn't gone unnoticed. Fans queue with CDs and cameras, eager for physical memorabilia of the gig. Sure, the Slough lads can play like pros and write pop songs that get glued to your brain, but without twice as much material, the people Brother are so desperate to entertain, enlighten and recruit for a new music army, could well get bored.

Read Skiddle's recent interview with Brother

Tickets are no longer available for this event