KINGS OF CONVENIENCE
London Union Chapel, 27 June 2001

There can't be a better venue to see Kings Of Convenience than the Union Chapel. You could be in Prague in here. Fading summer evening light anguishes through the stained glass, the ceiling looms with friendly dignity and the bricks glow bravely through the dust. Oh, one could clutch one's brow. And so a mobile phone trills like an electronic fuckwit and Eirik and Erlend, acoustics poised, glare in its direction. Then they play 'Until You Understand', a thing so painfully gentle you can feel your guts form into a filo pastry parcel. The sound of beer cans being opened is like an air raid. If quiet is the new loud, "shhh!" is the new "wooo!".

No one knows if they should clap. Then it starts. Builds into deafening, relieved, ha-ha-gotcha cheers. They grin. We're away. The two acoustic guitars and voices don't so much duel as sit down with a glass of wine and discuss it like civilised people. The melodies tread softly as the cast of Watership Down in ballet slippers. Eirik and Erlend manage to be awfully bashful and dashingly witty all at once, charming everyone out of their skins.

"We're not used to a thousand people," Eirik shuffles, "but you're being very nice. You're a very well-behaved thousand people." The thousand giggle girlishly.

Erlend does some tippy-toe piano for 'Singing Softly To Me'. "It's very exhilarating improvising on piano in front of a thousand people," he breezes. "Cos if you do something good a thousand people will notice." They do A-Ha's inconsolable 'Manhattan Skyline' justice, and for Tom Petty's 'Free Fallin'' they coax the audience into singing a counter-melody. It's so lovely that everyone comes inches from bursting into tears and embracing the nearest bony indie cognoscenti. Fears of preciousness or the dreaded mimsy evaporate as you sink into it like you're a drop of water being absorbed into a big sponge. Sigh.

WORDS: Sarah Bee



Dotmusic.com review

Singer songwriters. Yeesh. It just conjures up so many bad images of beardy men and earnest women playing outsized acoustic guitars while wailing plaintively about love gone wrong or nuclear power. Well, Erik and Erlend are here to set things straight armed only with stupidly large glasses and very pretty music.

Kings Of Convenience start with the hushed tones of their kicking someone to the curb in the nicest possible way tune 'Weight of my Words'. These ersatz geeklers write the songs that most girls live to have written about them. Forget six-pack abs guys - you want to be a chick magnet - tell some girl she is the subject of 'Winning A Battle, Losing The War' and she'll be putty in your hands. Just like the crowd is tonight. Honestly, KOC could start plinking out the theme tune to Dad's Army and the crowd would piss themselves with glee.

They glide over the bulk of their new album 'Quiet Is The New Loud' while the setting sun's light hazes through stain-glassed windows, bathing the stage in hues of pink and blue. Between songs they entertain the crowd with their dry Norwegian wit (who knew they could be funny?) and deliver not one, but two crowd pleasing covers. First one involves the audience singing the chorus to Tom Petty's 'Free Falling', a slice of heaven in this church-cum-venue. Second cover is the near perfect Belle & Sebastian gem 'You Make Me Forget My Dreams'. The fans drool with delight at the sight of the sensitive lads singing the gospels of one of their gods. The dynamic duo must be aware that if they don't inject some banter and engage us, we'll just unfurl our sleeping bags and have a little kip, albeit a dreamy one.

Their music isn't boring, not by a long shot. It is just so fragile and tender it makes you feel like you are picking up a priceless antique that you are petrified of dropping. You admire it from afar, but don't want to touch it for fear of breaking it. It's like dandelion fluff floating away in the breeze - it looks so magic, but one blow and it is gone.

Kings of Convenience lack Belle & Sebastian's underlying cynicism or Turin Brakes' grit. Which is why their music, while exquisitely handled, offers nothing to grab onto. This is highlighted during the encore of new single 'Failure', when they are accompanied by drummer John Chandler from support act Birdie. All of a sudden the music has meat on its bones and becomes three dimensional.

For the moment then, KOC are like guys who are fantastic kissers, but haven't really thought about where that is supposed to lead. No doubt there are plenty of people out there willing to teach them. Especially if there's a song about them in the deal.

Lisa Oliver