Neon Neon at the Sage, 9th November 2008

With a few notable exceptions, pop music in the 80s was rubbish, wasn’t it? A Flock Of Seagulls feasting off the corpses of bloated pop bands fuelled by the attitudes of Thatcherism only to be swept away in a blizzard of cocaine and hedonism. Appropriate then, that Neon Neon have appropriated sounds so synonymous with a time so rich in distended self-indulgence to tell the tumultuous story of John Z. Delorean, founder of the Delorean motor company; a man notorious for his sordid affairs, crafty business mind and ceaseless self indulgence. It’s an album about the highs and lows, the dizzying ecstasy and inevitable pitfalls of consumerism, capitalism and the American dream. And where better to preach this message than Gateshead?
Crammed into The Sage’s hall two with drink in hand, after a ferocious set by hip-hop troupe Yo Majesty! which left my companion and myself reeling with massive grins on our faces, Neon Neon’s Boom Bip kicks things off by constructing the metallic, smooth, futuristic sounding bleeps and beats that colour ‘Stainless Style’. Gorgeously danceable while self aware, Neon Neon avoids being bogged down by it’s own self- referencing intelligence, because for all it’s a cleverly constructed concept, it’s also got soul and tunes by the bucket load. Boom Bip was gradually joined onstage by a drummer, the nauseatingly beautiful Cate Le Bon on bass and backing vocals, and, of course, the man with the golden throat, that Welsh master of melody- Gruff Rhys. And from the in, we are treated to an evening of eccentric pop perfection. Current single ‘Dream Cars’ floats through the rafters like a wistful smokescreen of melody that latches into your cerebellum and refuses to let go. The consistency of quality is almost overwhelming; every song fizzing with the hooks and quirks to make it a potential single.
As much as I Iove the Super Furries, it must be said that tonight Neon Neon possessed the energy, imagination and eccentricity that SFA gigs have been lacking in recent years. Not since Super Furry Animals donned the stage at Leeds University in a golf cart and glow-in-the dark druid outfits back in ’05 have I been to a gig that felt so much like a carnival; an all encompassing sensual experience. Documentary films glimmer and crackle behind the band, Gruff employs a cavalry of visual aids, but the highlight of the extent of their showmanship comes when collaborator Har Mar Superstar raps for at least 60 seconds while standing on his head. No mean feat, I can attest.
After the pulsating gorgeous beats fizzled out, and the band took a gracious and humble curtain call, we are left with a glorious ringing in our ears. The unlikeliest of pairings has generated one of the finest all out pop albums of the decade.

Review by Ben Lowes-Smith