By the time I had arrived at Fibbers, the second support of the night, La Pettite Mort, were already on stage and making great use of it. Their brand of shoegaze-meets-psychedelia seemed much more full-bodied than the skeletal catchiness of Virals that followed. After Virals ran through their set without any pauses for anything other than breath and the occasional lifting up of a microphone stand, the crowd moved forward and the sense of expectation was palpable. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, ‘When it is darkest, men see stars’, and indeed soon enough, to the background of bright, star-like lamps, the headliners entered the stage.
Hailing from Birmingham, Peace are perhaps best known for their ridiculously infectious single “Bloodshake” which they judiciously kept as a closer. But their still small yet ever expanding catalogue proves that they are more than just a one-hit wonder. “California Daze” for example serves as another highlight, bringing a little sunlight into the venue. The gig, to some extent is an experience of modern indie tunes filtered through the smoke of a laid back Californian rocker. When they are at their best, the results are astonishing: the penultimate “1998” works out as both a sensuous challenge and an original fusion of various pulsating styles. The song is a vital yet irreverent cover of 90s trance act Binary Finary’s hit single and its repeating, almost post-rock motif leads into a conclusion that is the musical equivalent of coming back from a good trip. They may not be the most talkative bunch but they don’t need to be. Because, after all, isn’t music a drug? Peace certainly have it in them to show just that.By Alex Jasinski