Fuck Buttons ~ live

Fuck Buttons, Koko/London, 20th April

My first visit to the surprisingly non-grungy Koko in Camden was delayed somewhat by the combined lure of the Inter Milan/Barcelona Champions League match and beers that didn’t cost £4 and weren’t sulkily upended into plastic cups from lukewarm cans. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise – we breezed into the venue and had just enough time to climb up to the nosebleed balcony and get a round in (it’s not the £12.70 for three identical cans of beer that offends me, it’s the maths – that doesn’t divide by three, Koko!) before Fuck Buttons unceremoniously trotted onto the stage. Fuck Buttons are a kind of difficult band – they’re called Fuck Buttons, for goodness’ sake – difficult to describe, shockingly named, but most of all hard to know what to do too. As they came into view, the hoards of hipsters who must have camped out since Monday to get to the front let out the first of about four ‘whoop’s that punctuated the evening, and clapped in an odd combination of polite and appreciative. When the Bristol twosome started playing – opposite ends of a great, beating heart of a keyboard setup that looked like it took physical exertion to play – the vibe around Koko was of hushed reverence rather than hopped-up appreciation. It was like sitting in some kind of Church of the Future.

They were, of course, phenomenal to watch. The sound was like sitting inside one of their epic aural landscapes, all sunsets and supernovas. Lit by a school-play level light show and the mobile phone screens belonging to various low-quality clips that are probably abound on YouTube, they completely transcended the venue. The set was Tarot Sport-heavy and criminally short, but when you could close your eyes and imagine you were floating through some Donnie Darko-style end of the world scenario — without getting too carried away or anything — it was absolutely worth it. Superb.

Words by Joel Golby