Live Review: Peter Murphy, Ikon

Tonight's bill attracts a horde of image-conscious goths dressed in black leather, lace and velvet, but disappointingly no rubber. In among the big hair and ornate fashion, the more practical simply choose to wear a light black cotton tee shirt on what is a swelteringly hot summer's evening. Similarly dressed in black, local postpunk darkwavers Ikon deal a solid set that draws from their extensive catalogue of albums. Perhaps accounting for all the Joy Division and New Order tees in the crowd, Ikon draw much from the influence of these bands adding something of a '90s industrial electronic twist to an essentially '80s sound. On stage, Ikon are comfortably relaxed and play with the kind of confidence that comes with playing together for more than 20 years. Now a permanent and respected part of the international goth and darkwave scene, frontman Chris McCarter sincerely acknowledges that while it's been a thrill for Ikon to tour the world and reach international audiences, there is nothing better for them than to play to a hometown audience.

Peter Murphy and his three-piece band hit the stage with impact, showcasing some of the harder rocking tunes from Ninth, his latest solo album. Well into his 50s, Murphy still writes a decent rock song and the deep gravel of his distinctive baritone howl is in fine form. Velocity Bird feels like glam colliding with angular old-school punk to produce hard, energised driving rock that is completely timeless. Murphy is a charmer but amusingly he is still pulling some really old-school '80s rock moves. Whether his hand is on his hip and he's pointing out into the audience or leaning into the crowd and flapping his arms and imagining that he is a bird, Murphy acts out his songs with the kind of camp theatricality Bowie once deployed. It is distracting and not the kind of sinister cool one would have expected from the man who fronted Bauhaus, supposedly the first goth band ever. Tonight dispels a lot of mythology, as Murphy tells us, “So you think I get about with this deep cavernous voice and hang out at the cemetery at night with lots of girls? Well that's not me at all,” he laughs and it becomes clear that he won't be feasting on the blood of a virgin later tonight. “It all happens here on stage and then we go home and have a hot cup of cocoa and no drugs. All the people who tell me that our music inspired them to do drugs,” he says rolling his eyes before saying, “no, no, no,” insistently. It feels like there is a touch of Kenneth Williams to Murphy's Count Dracula. Slipping into Bauhaus, She's In Parties is a memorable highlight ahead of Kick In The Eye's funk manoeuvres and the fury of Silent Hedges. Murphy sings it likes he means it and when he stands on the edge of the stage there is no shortage of hands with black fingernails and skull rings reaching up his legs. He swats the hands away like flies and insists on “no touching” but is red faced when someone points out that his fly is undone. A more acoustic version of Strange Kind Of Love blurs into a teasing snippet of Bela Lugosi's Dead but most are disappointed that we are not treated to a full version. Murphy soon starts to round the set out with his solo material and I'll Fall With Your Knife and Cuts You Up demonstrate just how many good songs he has recorded over the course of his somewhat low-key solo career. Those hoping for more Bauhaus get a roughed up version of Telegram Sam and Ziggy Stardust, which Bowie reportedly told Murphy was better than the original. While Bowie has just released one of the most painful singles of his career, it seems that there is plenty of life in Murphy, who is ten years younger and can still rip it up. The single-song encore sees Murphy and his band lying on the floor doing what feels like I'm imagining was a cover of Dead Can Dance's Severance, which brings down the night.