Live Review: Of Monsters & Men, The Trouble With Templeton, The Falls

Blissful simplicity; it's all the rage these days, what with the multitude of folk poseurs and heart-sleeve wearing songbirds. There were three examples of how to approach this seemingly elementary art on display at the Oxford Art Factory, a breeding ground for such wildlife.

With the male/female/brother/sister/wife/husband duo firmly in place (they are, in fact, ex-lovers), The Falls pulled whimsically at our heartstrings, hitting a mediocre balance between background softness and brief glimpses of the utter devastation behind their original songs. It was all very nice, sounding as if they are extremely comfortable with each other, but without that lovelorn wanting that could have driven their performance into a place worth mentioning. Pretty and at times ear-catching, but generally forgettable.

Thomas Calder, known under the unwieldy moniker of The Trouble With Templeton, takes a different route. A lonely figure on a stage that might dwarf some, Calder and his floppy Conor Oberst haircut filled the empty space like someone twice his size. His elemental howl of a voice helped, coaxing the cuts from his debut album Bleeders from their dark tar pit into a joyously confrontational bloom. The lilting nightshade strums of When Will are dramatically blown into proportion – that of a Dark Knight Rises-sized scope.

Of Monsters & Men take us home with a final example of how to get the most out of folk-rooted melodies with their 24 limbs and six larynxes. Though a more sturdy beast than either of the supports, this was only clear during the celebratory choruses. Ringing out like winter chimes, the combined voices of these charming Icelandic musicians often led to a storm of handclaps, and their own personal backing band among the audience. What was it about them that caused this ripple effect? I think it comes down to a stickle-brick simplicity; all primary colours, easily fitting together and giving a delightfully tactile experience. There was nothing complex here, which meant glorious icy pop for everyone. At the same time, it meant there was not much to get your teeth into. There were hints of something more in the repetition of their closing number In The Light, which threatened to feed the crowd some unlikely cacophony, sneaking in on a pounding extra snare and indelible choral chant. There was more in the drumming talent driving the whole enterprise, skipping beats and reinforcing others. There was no doubt Of Monsters & Men deserve to keep the audience they've enraptured. It would be excellent if they could keep drawing people in and allow some of their more twisted and misshapen parts to show.