Monday 17/02/03 My Computer, Erlend Oye @ Barfly, Liverpool

by Brendon Hooper

In the midst of four keyboards and an electric drum kit; there is definitely something computer-ish about My Computer. An innumerable amount of beeps and samples are thrown together to make a confusing tangle of polyphonic funk and ultra-vocoded vocals, with a slice of electric guitar, but exactly where's it heading is hard to figure out. A half comparison with Air would just about cut it on the musical level, but visually and atmospherically they are truly meek.

'Vulnerabilia' chases something into introspection, but never quite gets out, and 'Magic Flat' provides an out-of-the-blue heart-pumping dance track that remains the highlight. Unfortunate, though, because the band as a unit pretty much has the charisma of a drowned bar fly.

Moustachioed like a southern hick, and resplendent in bo-ho tramp jacket with Cocker-esque spectacles, Erlend Oye is never going to be ladies' favourite when it comes to his eccentric attire. Nonetheless, upon listening to his ever-so-subtle Norwegian tones and tuneful crooning even the most resilient of feminine hearts would surely melt before his lanky frame.

Erlend is a folk artist, yet propels the usually dreary world of folk into the 21st Century with an emphatic electro-beat combination. This is no more apparent from studying the man's past incarnations; his style now forms the Kings of Royksopp Convenience, the two genres moulded together to create something interestingly altered. Two synthesiser beat boxes twist rhythms with kitsch 80s blips and twangs, whilst Erlend strums gently along with his delicate voice, into a lo-fi funk-folk amalgamation.

The man is entertaining too. When he realises his lyrics have strayed into rapping territory, he plays along and, for a while at least, it's Grandmaster Flash meets Nick Drake on 'White Lines'. Ah, heart-warming indeed.