Playlouder - Music is the Network

Opinion is already split down the middle about the new Guillemots album, 'Red', an unashamedly poppy comeback from a band whose indie credentials are always in danger of being overshadowed by their quirkiness and (what's even less acceptable) pleasantness. Detractors might argue not entirely unreasonably that their Mr. Sheen-shined popstasmagorical rocky road that is 'Red' strays too close to Scissor Sisters territory for comfort, and even that it stops off for a picnic at a viewpoint from which you can still see the crater where Gay Dad crashed and burned.

What is really unlikely to split opinions is the band's live show. As one who is often in two minds about Fyfe 'nicest man in pop' Dangerfield and his bunch of oddball mates, it's a pleasure for me to report that Guillemots are an overwhelmingly enjoyable live band. They've got the whole Crowded House vibe going; you can imagine Fyfe turning to the audience during one of the quieter piano-led interludes and winking: “You know more Guillemots songs than you think you do!”

The songs are big too – really big. 'Sao Paolo', 'Annie Let's Not Wait' and 'Standing on the Last Star' are all breathtaking highlights, while 'Kriss Kross' and new single 'Get over It' prove the band can rock pretty bloody hard when they want to, and that they're not afraid to show a different side of their sound in a live setting. Supporting barmy Norwegian, Ida Maria, provides vocals and interpretative dance on 'Words', and with a touching acoustic rendition of 'We're Here' Fyfe miraculously manages to shut up the whole of Shepherds Bush Empire. All that can be heard is an awed silence punctuated by the dim ringing of the tills at the bar.

Fyfe has a voice that could soothe the most savage of beasts. If pitted against a Bengal tiger in a secured arena, he could probably soothe it to sleep with a song. (Although, personally I think such a publicity stunt would be a bit risky and would contravene health and safety if not animal welfare laws.)

With a bare minimum of the on stage antics they're notorious for, Guillemots are stripped down to their songs alone, and the results are more than satisfactory. In fact, the showiest thing on offer is Fyfe's red cardigan, which he bashfully gestures to by way of illustrating the meaning of the new album. He remains almost annoyingly modest: the way he talks you'd think Guillemots were a band finding their feet, and yet what we see is a band in full flow, expanding and embellishing and almost exploding with talent. Guillemots live can hold their own against the best of the rest.