Ponyloaf earn another opening slot, which is unfair as they’re a better band than a 9pm start suggests. Playing their riff-heavy electro-metal to an empty floor doesn’t seem to daunt them, however, as they embark on
on yet another epic travail through synthesizer-land. ‘Aargh’s Townhouse’ off last year’s o-cOMPLEX longplayer is a highlight.
It’s time to acknowledge Eddie Van Halen’s influence on Ponyloaf’s sound. One hopes they eventually find the stadium gigs their music so clearly deserves.
By the time Soma Rasa hit the stage the venue has filled up. It also becomes apparent that many of these fans are actually here for Soma and not just the headliners.
The Hazard brothers never disappoint and turn in a killer set that’s notable for Dan Hazard’s return to full drumming duties. He quickly reminds us what a great live drummer he really is, as the boys swing into a set of mainly new tracks. There’s also a Kid Kay Ferris remix and a couple of the hotter tracks off On The Run (‘I Like It’, ‘Come On’).
There’s an awful lot of hype about Infusion and, more to the point, their live show. Yes, their brand of dance music is intelligent. Yes, they have played Glastonbury, Roskilde and some festival in South America with four-million punters. Yes, they really can twiddle knobs and jump in the air simultaneously.
But despite all that, their live set is boring. Well, not so much boring as plodding, bombastic and emotionally over-ripe.
Of course, there’s nothing intrinsically wrong with Infusion’s heady cocktail of banging kicks, throbbing basslines, live guitars, some shrewd sampling and Too Many Synthesizers. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with dancing the night away in front of a charismatic live dance band (for the record, ‘Modern Day’ and ‘Continental Drift’ are among the highlights), as the large and extremely appreciate Arena crowd continue to demonstrate all night.
But Infusion’s music has contracted a bad case of compositional overreach. There’s a lot going on – some of it pretty, all of it danceable – but much of it is frankly cheesy.
When things are allowed to slow down, break down or at least unwind, Infusion are capable of moments of clear, aching beauty: a minor-key piano sample, or a hypnotic slap-bass line. But then emotions seem to get the better of them again and we’re away on another eight minutes of soaring melodies shotgun-wedded to kick-heavy mono-rhythms.
Like some Nord-playing Sisyphus, Infusion appear to be lost in a never-ending set of 1am dancefloor euphoria. It’s a mystical Cloud Cuckoo Land of impossibly enormous kick drums and punters with their hands in the air.
One day they may snap to attention, only to find themselves still playing to an empty venue, the punters long gone and the cleaners busying themselves picking up all the little snap-lock drug bags.
BEN ELTHAM
Posted on May 05, 2005