Out of the current creative haven that is Brooklyn come Ratatat, who find themselves in Europe for the standard festival round-trip in support of their new album ‘LP3’, and at Manchester Roadhouse somewhere in between. On record Ratatat consist of the duo Mike Stroud and Evan Mast, and have been causing something of an underground stir due to the unique sound of their first two albums, self-titled ‘Ratatat’, and ‘Classics’, and after supporting such names as Interpol, Daft Punk and Björk. They combine dancey/hip hop electronic drumbeats with soaring synths and big riffs on a very distinctive harmonised fuzzy guitar sound which would not be out of place coming from Steve Vai or Brian May. Each song being entirely instrumental, they are doing something completely original, and it is this that has captured the imagination of their rapidly growing fan base so far. Arriving onstage just before 11pm in front of a crowded room smelling of my personal favourite combination of rum and sick, the duo, plus touring keyboardist Jacob Morris, tore straight into opener ‘Snifters’ and instantly grabbed our attention. What certainly helped this is that Morris has one of the biggest afros I have ever seen and loves an absolute dance. When onstage he looks like a gigantic microphone having a very conspicuous public breakdown, or as my friend put it, “like a bearded poodle’s reflection in the back of a spoon”, all of which, you understand, can only be a good thing. They look very cool indeed, and their strange set up with instruments dotted around the whole stage makes them even more interesting to watch.
With incessant drum beats often aided by one or even two members on bongos or smacking a floor tom, the crowd were soon unable to stop themselves dancing. Every second more outrageous dance moves were thrown (Ratatat are ridiculously good at playing and being horizontal at the same time, by the way), along with big guitar hooks, pounding drum beats, and strange images projected onto the back wall behind the trio, including their own bendy take on Paul Simon’s video for ‘You can call me Al’.
The show constantly picked up momentum, and they went on to treat the crowd to favourites such as ‘Lex’, ‘Wildcat’, and ‘Loud Pipes’, and of course tapped into ‘LP3’ showcasing amongst others, ‘Falcon Jab’ and ‘Flynn’ which have a similar feel to the other albums but are perhaps a bit more progressive and experimental.
After doing the ‘pretending-to-finish-then-coming-back-on-two-minutes-later-to-do-the-encore-we-all-knew-they-were-going-to-do’ formality was complete, they eventually left us after a fantastic hammering rendition of ‘Seventeen Years’ during which one guy from the crowd got a bit carried away and joined them onstage for a little drunken dance, consequently getting thrown out by security. You can’t blame him. I would have done it if he hadn’t had first....
This was one of the best gigs I’ve been to in a very long time, and it really is refreshing to see a band really get into what they are playing, especially when it is so original and just....cool, really. Whether or not the big bottle of Jameson’s being regularly swigged by the band members had anything to do with it, I don’t know, but you can’t help but be swept away by a performance like this - when everything comes together and a band stamps its personality on a venue in such fashion. This is what these small underground clubs are all about, and it would be interesting to see how they would fair in bigger venues. Either way, I can’t wait to find out. Seventeen years of Ratatat? Yes, please.
With incessant drum beats often aided by one or even two members on bongos or smacking a floor tom, the crowd were soon unable to stop themselves dancing. Every second more outrageous dance moves were thrown (Ratatat are ridiculously good at playing and being horizontal at the same time, by the way), along with big guitar hooks, pounding drum beats, and strange images projected onto the back wall behind the trio, including their own bendy take on Paul Simon’s video for ‘You can call me Al’.
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