Chapel Club, David Lyre

Alex Yau 05/02/2011

Tonight seems like the perfect night for Chapel Club's creative output. Blustering winds plague the drab and damp streets of Liverpool like a mini apocalypse engulfing those unfortunate enough to wander in its destructive path. For the band, and particularly, the very well read and literate front man Lewis Bowman, this is their pathetic fallacy. They look very much suited to this as Bowman hauntingly projects a mini Ian Curtis as he stares forlornly into the crowd, with the same dread of coming face to face with a deathly abyss, whilst guitarist Alex Parry's neat image soon gets transformed into that of a mad scientist as his straight blonde hair gets ruffled from the chaos that that he pummels into his guitar.

Fine Light's water falling and celestial guitars obscure all around, creating an image of a sheer, tranquil paradise and the beating war drums are only a small warning of the soaring F1 jets that soon screech over like a phantom ghoul. There's a sense of doom as After the Flood's bass thumps down like the starving underbelly of a beast before it unveils its head from the underground searching for its next delicious victim.

Material from their Wintering EP is a welcome distraction from the Palace material. It's been described as “not so Chapel Club,” although Bowman dismisses this and welcomes it as a changing band. It'd be interesting to see if they take a Killers route in the future (equally citing the same influences of Echo and the Bunnymen and New Order), donning leather waistcoats and porn star moustaches. Speaking of Echo and the Bunnymen, Roads channels the same sexual aura of the Killing Moon; it's all a melodic reverberance that traverses a mystical otherworldliness.

But let's go back to the album material. Of course, there's an air of anticipation tonight. Their debut's met wide spread popularity since its short release. We'll have to wait to see if they meet the same fat as White Lies or Mephedrone but right now, Chapel Club and the crowd are basking in the euphoric dark light of James Joyce like realisation. White Knight Position is Muse being channelled through an anti gravity chamber whilst being pin-balled along at sonic speeds. Paper Thin is the silent calm you experience in 28 Days Later, a heavenly calm at that which is brushed through by a floating and butterflying shimmer.

Of course, there'd be no album tour without playing the big guns! It'd be like Mcdonald's getting rid of Bic Mac's and selling a KFC meal instead. O Maybe I trickles down with a swelling cloudiness as Bowman channels a Morrissey-esque charm about him and finally the sombre train of Surfacing falls down like a hammer of doom. All the Eastern Girls are wandering back from Saint Martins, and it's to see Chapel Club tonight!