Mum

Mum are a band that have the power to astound and confound almost simultaneously. That is why they are so fantastic, and such a relief from the diluted, dance-floor-friendly electronica that is pumped daily into the bloodstream of society. Play the first ten seconds of each track on their new album and you probably won't hear a thing, but dig deeper and you will unearth an unnerving and effortless balance of energy, sensitivity, intuition, precision and craftsmanship. And that is exactly why (if you listen to those beautiful, delicate, affecting records) you could be forgiven for thinking that a live performance by that very same band might well be something worth checking out…

With the entire stage at the Old Market filled with musicians and peculiar gadgets, Mum would probably be a close fourth behind Polyphonic Spree, Lambchop and Brian Wilson, if bands won points for seeing how much you could fit onto one stage. But sadly, as we all know, there are no prizes for coming fourth, and to be honest the band kept their audience waiting for so long that, if there were any prizes left over, you'd probably hold onto them yourself.

Despite being a bit slow to jump into action, a surprisingly organic Mum (with more strings than laptops) proved from the outset of their performance that they are capable of transferring to the live stage the same intensity that defines their recorded work - the songs were great, the musicianship was exemplary, their music was, as ever, nothing short of captivating, but it just didn't work in the given environment. In short, it was a bit like listening to one of their CDs through a bad set of speakers… you got the general idea of it all, but that was about it.

…And so as the gig progressed and as each respective member of the band triggered a sample, blew a melodica, gently caressed a guitar or carved away at a musical saw, you couldn't help but notice that (to put it bluntly) only the loud bits with drums really made any impression. Although most of the audience were really listening hard (perhaps waiting for the bass-heavy mix to be sorted out), a large number were either stoned (and as a consequence couldn't have cared less) or seemed to have (inexplicably) paid an £11 admission fee to either have a really loud conversation with their friends, or (to use the example of the annoying, bald bloke standing behind me) heckle the singer. Strange, but true…

There is no doubt that Mum have an awesome, innate talent, but for goodness sake, buy more of their records and get them into the Queen Elizabeth Hall next time!