The Asteroids Galaxy Tour @ Cargo, London
There's something very Scooby Doo about The Asteroids Galaxy Tour. They come onstage looking like they have only the slightest of attention spans, dressed like over-zealous nine-year-olds let loose in a dress up box after consuming a few too many Panda Pops. It's all very cutesy and exciting in a juvenile way, but by the end they have solved the mystery, which in this case is how to entertain a Shoreditch crowd just waiting to be disappointed.
They are blessed with a singer who exudes the necessary qualities of a pop frontwoman; bolshie, pretty, kooky and more than a little like Blondie, Mette Lindberg is a star in waiting. If Lady GaGa and Katy Perry can do it, give me strength, it's an open market. Ms Lindberg nails the attitude of her tracks, a little warped, a touch of cabaret but always going somewhere.
Her Copenhagen accent is more pronounced in person and compliments the bouncy beats of opener Hero, a hint of ska and squeaky beats dominating. Once the focus of their visually startling stance dims though, it's hard to find much going on. Sure, there's a horn section and a solid if basic topless drummer, but it's all a bit corny in the musical department, with Bad Fever and its ilk doing little but pass time.
Tracks with lines rhyming crazy/mad with hazy/sad are as annoying as they sound, while even Debbie Harry-aping Rapture dance moves cannot appease forever. There is a distinct lack of substance, the feeling that this would all be better off neatly packaged into three minute bursts rather than hour sets. However, in these little snippets, such as the iPod advert adorning Around The Bend, the audience is absolutely smitten.
The only other song competing in the catchiness stakes is The Sun Ain't Shining No More, which begins with a smooth Motown feel that Lindberg cavorts over with glee. It's a tad darker, less throwaway and nails what this band should really be doing. There's potential here, hits to be hit, but the whole cheesy cartoon act needs to be toned down. They aren't mad, crazy kids â“ but they have a few bright ideas and a top singer. We'll be hearing a lot more from this group â“ it's still up to them to decide whether it's any good or not.
They are blessed with a singer who exudes the necessary qualities of a pop frontwoman; bolshie, pretty, kooky and more than a little like Blondie, Mette Lindberg is a star in waiting. If Lady GaGa and Katy Perry can do it, give me strength, it's an open market. Ms Lindberg nails the attitude of her tracks, a little warped, a touch of cabaret but always going somewhere.
Her Copenhagen accent is more pronounced in person and compliments the bouncy beats of opener Hero, a hint of ska and squeaky beats dominating. Once the focus of their visually startling stance dims though, it's hard to find much going on. Sure, there's a horn section and a solid if basic topless drummer, but it's all a bit corny in the musical department, with Bad Fever and its ilk doing little but pass time.
Tracks with lines rhyming crazy/mad with hazy/sad are as annoying as they sound, while even Debbie Harry-aping Rapture dance moves cannot appease forever. There is a distinct lack of substance, the feeling that this would all be better off neatly packaged into three minute bursts rather than hour sets. However, in these little snippets, such as the iPod advert adorning Around The Bend, the audience is absolutely smitten.
The only other song competing in the catchiness stakes is The Sun Ain't Shining No More, which begins with a smooth Motown feel that Lindberg cavorts over with glee. It's a tad darker, less throwaway and nails what this band should really be doing. There's potential here, hits to be hit, but the whole cheesy cartoon act needs to be toned down. They aren't mad, crazy kids â“ but they have a few bright ideas and a top singer. We'll be hearing a lot more from this group â“ it's still up to them to decide whether it's any good or not.
