大象传媒

Charity is good for you. As Blur's 'Parklife' says, "it gives me an enormous sense of well-being, and I'm happy for the rest of the day". Granted they were talking about feeding pigeons, whereas our bands here this evening would probably look after them (Poets Pocket Symphony), train them to dive bomb unsuspecting passers-by (A Plastic Rose), or enlist them to destroy the entire capitalist world (LaFaro - eating any that misbehaved along the way). But, anyway, char-id-ee is nominally the reason why we're here tonight, although that's a mere fringe benefit - really it's pigeon-fancying.

Beginning with the most self-effacing of our groups, Poets Pocket Symphony most definitely do not let anyone down and will pretty soon need a big old tour bus to transport them round the venues they will be playing. It's grungy pop-rock, with a hint of Riot Grrl in there, like Lush covering the Pixies with sense of twisted fun. 'Sinking Ship' is excellent and the whole thing is loud shouty and good for you, dragging us about with catchy little hooks. 'People Let You Down' could easily be all over the place, appealing to anyone and everyone, with enough of an edge and integrity to it to prevent any sickly aftertaste. PPS - will soon be bigger than UPS, GPS or MPs salaries.

The filling in the sandwich of delicious bandiness tonight are A Plastic Rose, the comedians of the night, and as friendly and good-natured a bunch of chaps you're likely to meet. Don't let that fool you though; they're more than capable of crafting songs of beauty and emotion while playing the clown in-between. Clothed by Oxfam, our evening's sponsors, the music is epic and layered (like their clothes), without being overblown or indulgent. 'Avalanche' and 'Coloured Blue' are excellent emotional rock, and despite being plastic there's nothing fake here. They are having no luck though, having to overcome technical difficulties and broken guitar strings, although the melodious discord that comes from changing guitars halfway through renders the song itself even more interesting, a happy bonus if you would. 'Sons of Shadow' has the wistfulness of Counting Crows with a tiny gentleness big enough to fill much larger venues before lifting in a Sigur Ros-esque climax. Thanking everyone, the one worrying aspect is the burgeoning love affair between our front-man and Jonny LaFaro - don't they realise that he and Cahir FWW are already the golden couple of NI music?

Anyway, onto the other part of this affair, and Jonny's combo take the stage, all clad in Oxjam T-shirts, Jonny in black the rest of the guys in green. Either they've been given them for the publicity shots, or somewhere there is an Oxfam team bound and gagged, naked. They taunt us by claiming to have got new tuners and that they're just going to play with them for half an hour, distracted by the pretty lights, before blasting into... a remarkably restrained opening - maybe they've gone all melodic on us? Continuing they hit us with 'Tuppenny Nudger' which again is more exact and distilled down than the usual LaFaro madness - have these new toys distracted them?

Newbie 'Leningrad' features on-going running repairs to the drum-kit, but is still brutal enough to restart the Cold War, before LaFaro reveal themselves to be the home for failed stand-up comedians while Jonny attempts to fix his guitar, before abandoning it and being joined by Tony And So I Watch You From Afar on tambourine and general rock-show DIY, but it still doesn't dull the headbangers of tunes as normal service has been resumed. 'Great Conversations...' is excellent, with a little touch of Interpol in there, before a frantic paranoid ascending finish with the refrain "I didn't know". And then a bonus of 'Mr Heskey', renamed 'Mr Fritzl' for the evening to be nice and cheery to end the chaos.

William Johnston