A sold out crowd greeted the launch of Pearls’ debut album Pretend You’re Mine.
The Curtin had been glammed up for the launch, with the stage decorated with shiny metallic gold and silver tinsel curtains. White Hex and their sad and sprawling epic goth songs were slightly incongruous to the backdrop – the band so chilled, so reserved, with robotic, glacial movements and icy, sweeping songs. But the singer downstairs at the bar later was dancing happily and effusively and even smiling while singing along to ‘Teenage Kicks’. So it must just be all an act saved for the stage.
Disco music plays, a dazzling-dressed keyboardist wriggles along while the electric keypad drums and bass throb and bounce, the smoke blows, the tinsel curtains sparkle and shimmer and shine almost as bright as Geoffrey O’Connor’s crisp white shirt as he bounds on and strums up. First lyric of first song “You remind me of another time” is pertinent. G.O.C is part 80s preen and part northern England camp. But with a touch of Australian inadequacy and irreverence thrown in, ‘your nipples pointed up at the stars’ used to set the scene of an imminent romantic encounter, for instance. It’s intelligent and wry dancing music along the lines of Jarvis Cocker’s suburban sexcapades. He overcame a guitar misfortune by just playing the maracas in some stripped back renditions of some songs, till he got a loan for a new set of six strings. A very good, sophisticated and stylish set indeed.
Pearls played the Workers Club last year to about a dozen people on a cold and desolate night. They had two approachable, but slightly mopey releases full of droning guitars and longing lyrics. Great songs, but a bit understated. A matter of months later and the sold out sign is up, and a bustling crowd stare up expectantly awaiting them, the room buzzing. Now they have the swagger and stomp of Slade, but with better spelling. There’s feather boas on the mics, making it look like they will be singing into Ozzie Ostrich, there’s leopard skin on the keyboardist, disco pumping through the PA and they are launching an album that could be anything.
They enter to a roar and slip right into ‘Straight Through the Heart’, a great sprawling near-ballad that touches on torch song, as Cassandra Kiely wails the chorus. It steps back into the pining of ‘Albion’, with singer Ryan Caesar eyes closed as he laments that he “Spent the longest time just to be with you”. This is Pearls lot, they vary between spectacle and shoegaze, glam and guitars. The lyrics, when reflective are weaved through wandering distorted guitars such as ‘Part Timers’ or the ode to singledom sadness of ‘Better Off Alone’ – “the sad songs just get old”.
But when they let fly with their strutting glam side, it’s almost a different band – their sound particularly enhanced with new fourth member James Payne adding cheeky melodies and stomping riffs over the top. Things life when they power through their sordid and swaggering cover of The Standells ‘Dirty Water’. The album’s title track ‘Pretend You’re Mine’ had hands in the air for it’s stadium worthy intro and the crowd excitedly bouncing along as if they were on Countdown.
Then finished with ‘Big Shot’, which may not be their best song, but surely is their catchiest and the one everyone was singing all the way home, and all of tomorrow too most likely. It just could just be their shot at the big time too, but is more than enough for now to affirm a packed room of buzzing people that they are a great band, getting even better with a ripper of an album on their hands. One that could probably quite comfortably sit beside ‘Ripper ’76 in your collection come to think of it!
