Delorentos gig at Clonmel, 4th July 2009.

After being unsure of what to do for the evening, myself and a friend were invited to South Tipperary to come and watch Dublin act Delorentos play a gig in a hotel in the centre of Clonmel.

Needing a brief change of scenery from Kilkenny, and having being purchased a ticket a couple of hours in advance, we thought 'why not?' and headed down.

The set consisted of around an hours worth of material, and was played with energy and proficiency. The venue was aorund half-full, and many young women were there to admire as they wooed them with music that would easily fall into the 'post-punk revival' ilk that has been popularized by acts such as Franz Ferdinand and The Killers. Like said bands, their music fails to reveal any hidden depths that good music evokes, nor does it exhibit any nuances of innovation or uniqueness that their musical forefathers had at their disposal. Their songs capture hearts and minds, move feet and clap hands without difficulty, though go no further and deny any greater picture or scope, in spite of how catchy the verses and choruses are, or regardless of the very positive atmosphere that was brought about by the band's presence. To sum up things more briefly and how history as an eternal concept might view this event, the music played came across as little more than a bodily function, and the sentiments of the songs served to be nothing but a statement of the present time in which they happened to be in whilst they played.

The songs consisted of lively, danceable rhythms that evoked traces of acts such as Gang Of Four and The Pop Group, with a musical backdrop of jangly guitars that evoke the early records of Wire, yet harmonize and play differing melodies in a way reminiscent of peer bands such as Editors and Bloc Party, though with much less emphasis on atmospherics. Compositions were very standardized, with little enthusiasm to take song structure (not a criticism, though without a doubt the band's intention) beyond the modern pop tradition of verse-chorus, for the most part killing off any momentum or linear continuity that makes good art worth it's salt. To make good art is probably not the intention of these young men either, though it is quite clear that history will just put these days in its vault when the night I refer to is all but a distant memory.

Being something of a realist I do also recognize that all human analysis is 'man-made' and is indeed formed by individual opinion, I am not writing this review as if should serve as some form of eternal law, though I do think it serves to glimpse a moment in time that falls into line within my rather Spenglerian modes of thought.

Still, a great night was had, with plenty of drunken merriness, stupid dance moves and an amusing incident with a shopping trolley in the early hours of the morning:)