Live Review: Yacht Club DJs, Thee Gold Blooms

Full of excitement, the narcissistic masses began to rock up to the Amplifier Bar dressed to impress and ready to party and mingle among one another.

The place was packed out pretty quickly, with the exception of one room – the one the band was playing in! It seemed that, while Thee Gold Blooms fascinated a handful of people in an intimate set, the rest were too damned proud to concern themselves with a band. The four-piece were playing through some of their fast-paced Beatles-esque ‘60s-style rock, presenting three-part harmonies to die for time and time again. Dylan on guitar said to check out their new single if you know how to install the Internet and also thanked their elitist mini-crowd for not presenting them with an onstage rehearsal.

The Yacht Club DJs started out easing their stiff, sober fans into the set with some tasty tunes, mashing together the likes of AC/DC, Dream Academy and Put Your Hands Up and then began to bring out the heavier things, like Get Low and Party Up, as you literally watched the transition from restrictive robot-like movement of people to the intoxicated over joy of warm bodies flailing around and pushing their way to the front.

Gaz Harrison manned the tables while Guy Chappell manned the laptop and at one point Chappell lost control and showered the crowd with beer and in retaliation, some drunken idiot thought spraying the desk with his beer would make for a great asset to the show. Harrison realised too late and was forced to throw himself over the desk, quickly spotting a towel to wipe the desk down, his mood diving into disappointment. After they resolved that dilemma, they busted out Time Of Your Life to finish off their last tour as a duo, that song adequately summarising any epic outro ever for anything eventful. Chappell was hosting the last song by trying to high-five every hand thrown his way. The crowd continued screaming out the lyrics along with Chappell who threw back another beer before severely retarding the track to a much darker, sadder version of the tune before halting the turn-table altogether. The night was eventful; however this reviewer was disgusted at the jaded attitudes of the reluctant crowd to even peek at the support act.