I love the Gypsy Punk. Well, for the most part. Although the days of stage invasions and perpetual crowd-surfing may be over for good, the mentalist seven-piece do their very damndest to recapture the energy of their smaller, more insane shows in the clinical, circular surroundings of the Roundhouse. And they start off marvellously- unlike the Brixton and Hammersmith shows where things were so frantic it became more a trial than a pleasure, the venue allows one to jump around without being crushed from all directions. The band are typically vital, and their set list mixed a selection of old favourites (including a brilliant ‘Mishto!’) with material from the most recent Super Taranta album, all delivered with manic glee by irrepressible Ukrainian front man Eugene Hutz. It’s always awesome to turn around during at a Gogol gig to see the whole venue pogoing up and down, and it was no different here- the moshpit seems to encapsulate the whole venue, including the balcony…
Unfortunately, just as I thought I’d got a ‘Top 5’ show on my hands, they drop the ball completely. A cavalcade of new songs and the interminable Baro Faro (pointless without the drum-surfing, even if they intersperse it with a medley of otherwise unplayed tracks) tests the audiences patience to the limit, and not even a riotous Start Wearing Purple could revive the electric atmosphere of the first half. Fizzling out with a whimper rather than a bang, it’s a disappointing end to a show that started so damn well. Support came from the entertaining Superamazoo, a Belgian fusion of Beastie Boys and Reel Big Fish - dead cheesy but the perfect warm-up band for a band like Gogol. If more bands had a bald guy beatboxing Seven Nation Army, the world would be a much better place.
(Photo: oliver.peel (Flickr))
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