The Neutrinos

I have to confess to feelings of mild disappointment when I peeked into the auditorium, prior to the Neutrinos’ opening set. The first time I saw them was inside the cages of a veterinary hospital and the last time it was in the round, literally centre stage at the Arts Centre, with the audience encircling what was an immersive audio/visual treat. This is a band with a reputation for oddness that precedes them. On this occasion, however, the stage was where you would expect it, and while I spotted a signature megaphone, for the most part it was filled with drums, guitars and keyboards. Was this to be just an ordinary gig? Do the Neutrinos do that sort of thing? Granted the stage was lit by domestic standard lamps and was dominated by a ruddy great chesterfield sofa, but this was surely little more than window dressing.

The gig itself started in the lowest key imaginable. In hindsight, it may well have started before that first peek, with what I took to be a sound check being ambient mood music. Impishly, the band weren’t letting on, so that even when Karen Reilly took to the stage, plonking herself down on the sofa, very few of the audience seemed to cotton on that the show they had come to see was happening. The two fellows next to me happily chatted away inconsequently during the first song, not in that “annoying person at a gig” sort of way. I think they just honestly didn’t realise that things had formally started.

This didn’t seem to bother the band, but it did bother me, and I was getting my best Paddington stare ready when slowly – very slowly – the penny dropped and folk started meandering in from the bar. Reilly was very relaxed about the whole thing, inviting people to come and go as they saw fit. Very few did go, however, as the ever expanding crowd became seduced by a set culled from Ordinary Things, a collection of their more introspective songs. What quickly became apparent was that, divested of the band’s more overt theatrics, these songs had room to Breathe (to appropriate the title of one of many beautiful songs we got to hear). I’ve long admired the Neutrinos for their musicianship and stagecraft, but I think this was the first time I’ve truly stepped back and listened to songs such as Who’s Counting and How do you Love. Though bolstered by Reilly’s charismatic stage presence and powerful vocals, the abiding impression this time was that of a hugely talented song- writing team, something perhaps even the fans don’t give them enough credit for. Small Animals was achingly moving this time around, something I don’t remember feeling when first heard inside that cage in Edinburgh – my guess is that I was too busy noticing the cage. There was some comedy business with phones to follow, and a chuckle was had by all, but this felt tacked on, and left me wondering whether the band lacks confidence in the ability of their material to stand up on its own. They seemed unable to resist pimping up the show with just a little bit of wackiness. If so, they are so wrong to think that way – the evidence to the contrary was there for all to hear.
The second set was an altogether more conventional Neutrino affair – if that’s a word that can ever be fit this most unconventional of bands. There was, as advertised, a lot of noise going on.