Melody Maker 1999-07-24 – Cawmuse

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A review of the 1999 gig at the Foundry, Birmingham in the 1999-07-24 issue of Melody Maker magazine.

Cawmuse

THE FOUNDRY, BIRMINGHAM

THERE'S sweatboxes and then there's sweatboxes. Tonight we are definitely in the latter. While out on the sun-kissed streets of Brum, the mood is one of a glam'n'tan party night, in here, under the red and green pulses of a heaving Foundry, it's a little more, well, intense.
  The Kids are out in full force and, in keeping with the double-header vibe, they demand two things of their own: lager and rock. Thankfully, the venue can provide both - hell, the rock's even free, but some still look a trifle confused, so in the spirit of brotherly goodwill, I find myself giving some simple, battle-hardened directions. OK, I cry, "There's a the bar and there's the stage." Let battle commence.
  MUSE don't do mucking about. You can tell that by their tourbus, a sizeable family home on many wheels that hugs the pavement outside, brooding silently, winking its lights. Onstage, diaphanous shirts and expensive-looking trousers are the order of the day. "Agitated" is a suitable gnawing scream of intent: fat, greasy garage guitars and singer Matt Bellamy's end-of-my-f***ing-tether wail that Mr Thom Yorke himself would be suitably proud of.
  Muse undoubtedly ear their Radiohead influences on their see-through sleeves, but they do it with a raucous aplomb that you can only applaud loudly while standing on a large chair. And that's coming from someone who only this morning had my doubts about them. Gulp, sorry. "Uno" has the detached scowl that the ladies love and rides easily on a smooth, rolling bassline. Yonks! These boys can sure play them instruments that they grip so delightfully. "Cave" rocks the widdly-diddly Grecian melody thing, while Matt leans, doe-eyes glowing brightly, into another tale of capricious womanhood. He's the new Sinatra. No, really! This is one grown-up band. And for once that is no insult. Unlike many bands of their hue, Muse actually appear to have had sex - with real people and everything - and found themselves in all kinds of emotional and physical trouble because of it. Respect.
  And people still complain that there's no good new bands? They're just not going to the right places. Just look for the big bus and the hungry smiles.
  ROB ATZPATRICK

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