Kid Harpoon feat Kate Nash, Electric Ballroom, London

Friday, April 20, 2007

If there's one thing the Camden Crawl needs, it's weird, innovate and downright strange fellows like Kid Harpoon. Headlining elsewhere in Camden on the same night is Amy Winehouse, Ash and The Bluetones. Indie retro fetishists may orgasm through their corduroy at the thought of Mark Morris and Tim Wheeler orchestrating karaoke singalongs of Now That's What I Call Indie '95!, but the Camden Crawl is about the new, the different, the foreheads annotated with neon crayons. Bollocks to shoe-gazing, bring on the electro acoustic wizardry and folk soaked jiggery pointery of Kid Harpoon… The important thing you need to know about Kid Harpoon is that it doesn't look good at first. Imagine James Blunt fronting The Kooks and cackling and pointing like Justin Hawkins on HRT. He points, he scampers, tap dances, jumps and behaves like a kitten on crystal meth. But despite the awfully polite, gap year Thailand travelling student appearance and enunciation, Kid Harpoon sings about picnic baskets and shopping trolleys before wailing like Jack Black doing his best devil impression. It's a scary, schizoid mix of Moz lyrics buried in their own Englishness, accompanied by roaring choruses played through the loudest acoustic instruments since Jack White picked up a banjo. Late for The Devil is the country singalong the Electric Ballroom has been waiting for all day, all summery emotions and infinitely moving rhythms full of rump shaking, finger clicking goodness. Fast forward to the festivals and this will echo through tents, courtesy of drunk troubadours playing out of tune guitars with tent pegs while doing wonky falsettos. You'll still singalong. You'll be forced to hunch and tip toe dance and do that Partridge 'I'm A Tiger!' roar and really not give a damn about those not experienced in the panto jive of Kid Harpoon. Kate Nash appears and sings in harmonies so sweet, she melts the hearts of a billion boys. When her mic stand slips down, you can hear the 'ooooh' of a dozen helpers on hand to aid little red riding hood, all pretty red petticoat and flowing brown hair. After just 45 minutes, Kid Harpoon and his cast vanish, leaving a happy crowd dreaming of the summer, practicing those moves, contemplating the olde English choruses laser etched into their brains.