Swim Deep, Live

Swim Deep are a bit of a strange one. It doesn't matter who you know, or where you're from, you've probably ran into one of the baggy clothed members. Every attendee at the post apocalyptic Electrowerkz had a story of how they'd 'ran into Cav at a pub' or 'they walked out the venue when I was in the queue'. It's an enigma, they get around. And judging by the crowd reaction at their London gig- their simplistic indie pop has gathered them a loyal support.

But it wasn't their simplistic sun drenched songs that got everyone talking. It was their nihilistic, ear splitting, screamers that were the talking point. Swim Deep's four unheard new songs taken from their second album sounded about as far away from Honey as you could be. Opener Fueiho Boogie boomed like a dance track that took a few too many lines MDMA and sat in the corner crying. Lead singer Austin Williams flowed through the stage like a hipster Lias Saoudi making death stares at the audience, mainly made up of teenage girls too young to remember what the 90s sounded like.

Fan favourites like She Changes The Weather were played with ease and accepted into the crowd like well known friends, and you could almost forgive it's youthfulness and naivety as you could feel that there was going to be a big change in the next album. When Swim Deep shone best was when Austin ditched his guitar and picked up a tambourine, the music felt less plastic and more fun. The band and the crowd had a conversation of energy that I haven't felt for a long long time.

The night finished with single To My Brother. Although released only a few months ago, it sits well with the crowd and band and minimal moshes and impromptu hugs fill the air. I walk off into the night, and Swim Deep walk into their new album with a smug feeling that they've pulled a blinder.