múm @ Museum of Garden History, London

A band whose self-confessed obsessions include sand, chickens and “larking about by the river”, it’s hard to think of a London venue more pastorally appropriate for Icelandic collective múm than the Museum of Garden History. Housed in a 400-year-old church a stone’s chuck from St Thomas’s Hospital, its glass cases full of trowels and (literally) old rope provide the septet with much between-song deadpan amusement along the lines of “isn’t it funny how little spades have changed over the years?”.

Deftly juggling so many instruments they don’t seem to know the names of all of them – one song is delayed because they “have to check the thingy’s working properly” – múm are fronted by a trio of girls who are basically the post-rock Bananarama. That is, if Bananarama were pregnant, violin-wielding poppets prone to dancing like toddlers at a wedding and magically producing recorders from heaven knows where.

Essentially a collision of glitchy electronica and archaic but endlessly charming folk, four-part multi-gender vocal harmonies find comfy homes on a bed of bleeping synth and whooshing melodica, and the presence of Kieran “Four Tet” Hebden in the crowd comes as no surprise whatsoever. Maternal bliss? You can bet your commemorative Kerry Katona “Mother of the Year” mug on it.

Charlie Ivens

Originally published on Orange.co.uk

Superthriller – Superthriller 2: The Return

Superthriller’s last long-form release, The Blank Album, was exactly that: a CD-r empty save a Word document containing a code, allowing the purchaser to access a section of the London trio’s website chock-full of tracks to be burnt in any combination onto the disc. By the band’s own cheerful admission, the idea went down “like a pork chop at a Jewish wedding”. Praise be, then, that Superthriller 2: The Return, the second “proper” album from art-leaning brothers Max and Ben Ringham and old mate Andrew Roland, isn’t quite so self-consciously interactive. What it is, though, is a text-book example of “right place, wrong time”. In the two short years since debut single ‘Ahjustwannadance’ tore up discerning dance floors across the UK, Superthriller’s only true rivals in the geekazoid race to perfect the bewildering Prince/Elton John/Iggy Pop/John Lennon/Sly Stone template – Hot Chip – have upped their game to such a degree that all bets are arguably off. Pity, because ‘Superthriller 2’ has its fair share of charms: opening track ‘Hairdresser’ and imminent single ‘Superthriller Motherfucker’ are witty, irresistibly funky beasts, and ‘The Duality Of Man’ (sample lyric: “You’re a coke-assed bitch motherfucker/But I love you just the same”) shows they can nail playful balladry too. File next to The Warning and curse that demon time.

Charlie Ivens