THE aliens

Before the band arrive on stage, they unveil another pet project - a short film spoof of Star Trek featuring band members under the influence at the controls, cutting to scenes of Jean-Luc Picard and co acting thoroughly bemused - appealing to the nostalgic sensitivities of tonight’s heavily student-orientated crowd. While it’s hard to imagine the critics at Cannes lapping it up, hearing “Sector Two, do you read?” in a broad Scottish accent provokes widespread giggles. Following a few bars of Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)’, Anderson - looking very much the part with bug-eyed green shades drawing even more attention to his huge mop of curls - karate kicks his way to centre stage, flanked by the rest of the band. The organ-heavy ‘Setting Sun’ is a perfect opener, sounding like the creative offspring of Bobby Gillespie jamming with The Doors. ‘Only Waiting’ is next, with vocals highlighting a healthy fascination with The Beatles’ circa ‘Rubber Soul and a splendid bit of (yes, really) Jools Holland-style tomfoolery by John MacLean on the keys. The front-man ends the song rapping incomprehensibly through a loud-speaker - the sheer audacity of it all is exhilarating. While its difficult to describe The Aliens’ sound without making constant reference to their undeniable influences (I’m clearly not doing a very good job), it’s important to note that their live performance transcends pastiche through its sheer, unadulterated fun. Anderson is clearly enjoying himself, switching between various comic impressions between songs and deftly mocking accusations of plagiarism: “Come on, it’s easy to remember the words, I wrote it! Or did I?” Despite a few grumblings at the bar concerning the apparently criminal absence of cider on tap, the crowd are a polite bunch - perhaps too polite for Anderson: “C’mon, Newcastle can sing louder than this” he notes during a half-hearted sing-a-long, “One more… for your Gran!” ‘Tomorrow’ sees The Aliens’ ship touching down in Nashville for some sweet, harmonica-assisted country blues, which lulls the crowd in before they catch us unaware with the blistering psychedelic epic ‘Caravan’. The heart-wrenching eloquence of the nine-minute behemoth’s lovelorn lyrics reminds us that they are indeed human after all and belies the sadness, however well disguised elsewhere, that creeps into Anderson’s song writing on occasion; “My heart is filled with sorrow and my mind is filled with pain. Don’t know if I’ll make tomorrow or if I’ll sleep again. Baby’s gone.” In predictably unpredictable style, they then proceed to launch into the dazzling space-funk of ‘Robot Man’, inserting “are you coming on up now?” just to underline the euphoric vibe created by this sure-fire feel good hit of the summer. With a no-nonsense “1-2-3-4!” Robin Jones’ drums usher in their other best-known track ‘The Happy Song’ with its manic refrain of “Happy, happy, happy!”. Whether a knowing in-joke or just sweetly innocent, it’s a fantastic penultimate track. A short encore follows, where the band belt out karaoke-style lines from Primal Scream’s ‘Higher Than The Sun’ and The Beatles’ ‘She Loves You’, Anderson now shorn of jacket, shirt and tie, but still rocking the green glasses. As the band exit to rapturous applause and whooping, it seems their fantastic voyage is just beginning - after a live show that reveals clarity within their chaos and a far better advert for recycling than Westminster Council could ever muster. [[Editor’s note: Lewis wanted to give the gig a rating of 4.5, but technology has prevented him from doing so. Plus we don’t do things in half measures at Artrocker, so I’ve taken the liberty of bumping it down to a 4]]