sfa / deerhoof

But then, who needs the Doctor when you’ve got SFA playing next door? Tonight they’ve promised to turn the Royal Festival Hall into a “surrealist playground that will defy the logic of space and time” - and to back them up they’ve brought San Francisco’s Deerhoof. Inside, there’s plenty of madness to sink your teeth into. SFA sleeve artist Pete Fowler spends the evening painting his monsterism onto a giant canvas, while “the world’s smallest nightclub” is opening it’s doors upstairs. An “Ole Man’s Pub” is selling real ale complete with a fake deer head on the wall, while glamorous vixens roam the corridors, attacking you with face paint if you make the fatal eye contact. To the music then, and DEERHOOF play like the American equivalent of Screaming Tea Party – all chaotic guitars and sudden uplifting melodies. A man in a giant panda suit gets on stage and starts doing kung fu kicks to the classic ‘Panda Panda Panda’ – a typically hallucinogenic sight. Inevitably, SFA are having a whale of a time as they drink, laugh and howl their way through three setlists. They delight hardened fans with early B-sides (‘Mrs Spector’) and woo the casual throng with surf-pop classics such as ‘Northern Lites’ and ‘Rings Around The World’. Crucially, the new songs are received well, with ‘Show Your Hand’ and ‘The Gift That Keeps Giving’ encouraging the kind of drunken singalongs normally reserved for Auld Lang Syne. As if by way of thanks, SFA transform ‘The Man Don’t Give A Fuck’ into a full on techno beast, and the venue into a strobe lit rave. Things begin to get messy in the heads of the revellers as the band return onstage dressed in huge alien outfits, followed by a group of small Yeti creatures (presumably Super Furry offspring). Their wish for a “surrealist playground” has been fulfilled, and with Andy Votel finishing up on the decks, 2008’s off to a flying start.