Live Review: Caravãna Sun, Rhythm Hunters, Dylan Wright

The night began in a light and fluffy fashion with Dylan Wright. The steadily growing crowd danced and swayed to the heartbeat sub bass and the Caribbean flavoured, airy guitar and rhythm sections.

The set was punctuated by a nostalgic, uptempo rendition of Believe In Yourself - the theme song to the TV series Arthur, in which a large portion of the crowd were either too old or too young for, but it was smug looks all around for those who got the reference.

Rhythm Hunters lined up on stage with their three percussionists, and their pan-pipeists and belted out a cinematic Bollywood opener with deep warbling chants and ohm’s, before breaking into a set filled with Worldly, unrelenting dance tunes.

The final number saw the already huge band joined by a group of seated, head swinging, arm flailing, Indonesian dancers for a chaotic climax to a varied, intriguing support bill.

If you wanted to catch your breath, the beat or so before Caravãna Sun emerged was the time to do it - there was none of that to be had for the rest of the night. Explosive sax solos and darting guitar jangles were almost upstaged by sheer intent.The group seemed much more suited to a live setting, as the crescendoing cacophony of ska-pop by far made up for some disappointing, overly produced, predictable vocal work that seems to plague their studio stuff

The band are masters of misdirection however, as they distract you from this fact with trickery and crowd work, with the saxophonist appearing at the back of the room, dancing on the bar table and getting crowd-surfed back to the stage. Did somebody yell "Now balance that sax on your head for a whole song?" No, but that happened too. 

Their melodramatic reactions to each and every lick and solo might not have been for everyone - the look on the group's faces at times was as if they were playing the cure for cancer. By and large however, the crowd was hooked, screaming for one more song. The band obliged, capping the night off with a rambunctious rendition of their jangly single The Bottle.