大象传媒

It's getting cold out there and let's face it - in these sub-arctic temperatures, an early gig in Lavery's Bunker might be too much for the average explorer, especially now that the new redesign gives it the appearance of a giant, dark refrigerator. Baby, it's cold outside, and it sort of feels cold inside too. What's an indie rocker to do?

Thankfully it appears that Clown Parlour have all of our best interests at heart. Like some kind of musical game of Jenga, Mike Mormecha and his band of musical accomplices, stack layer upon layer of sound, coating the entire venue in a pulsating blanket of noise. Whether they're being quiet and intimate or loud and brash, Clown Parlour have a knack for putting things together in such a way that you don't see the join.

Almost theatrical in nature, the songs veer from an acoustic whisper, to a deafening electric roar. With the stage lights bathing the band in an eerie 听sub-aqueous blue, or a sickening, almost putrid yellow, the whole scene takes on the veneer of a scene from a David Lynch movie; a cabaret band from the underbelly of society. It's captivating stuff, and it transports you far, far away from a rainy Saturday night in Belfast. The album will be worth waiting for.

Pocket Promise create a different kind of warmth, but one no less satisfying. Projecting a sincerity and approachability that many of their peers lack, the Dungannon four piece achieve the perfect pitch - a band who are completely accessible, yet not afraid to try new things.

Drawing from their recently released album, I've Been Here for Ages, Pocket Promise create a warmth between band and audience that is altogether different to the atmosphere created by Clown Parlour, but no less welcome.

On the face of it, both bands have very little in common, but a closer inspection reveals an almost obsessive attention to details. These bands are master-craftsmen, perfectly honing every note before they reveal it to you. Whispers of the band getting ready 听to get stuck into a new album are as tantalising as they are surprising.

If the evening has any weak point, then - once again - it's down to the less than spectacular attendance. Yes - it was cold and wet. But the fact that the venue starts to fill up for the Radiation club night afterwards reflects badly upon the Belfast gig going audience. In fairness, neither band seemed particularly intent on reaching out to an untapped audience, preferring instead to preach to the converted.

No matter. Introverted music, for an introverted night - I think we can all be happy with that. Perhaps they'll come into bloom in the spring?

Steven Rainey