Of Montreal

Sometimes, it's good to go to a gig with a untampered pair of ears and a clean, clear mind. Sometimes, you trust your friend's good judgement when they take you to see a band you've heard of, but not heard anything by.

Before the gig, I was told Of Montreal was "whimsical" "happy" and like "electric bubbles". I was told their new album "Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?" had "African rhythms" but "nothing like Graceland".

To be honest, I didn't know what to expect. But when they came on, wearing fairy wings, gold American football padding and sparkly masks, I knew I was in for a show. And when they started bursting glitter filled balloons and throwing cups full of red paint into the crowd, I figured they loved entertaining as much as they loved their audience.

But don't let the gimmicks lead you to believe they are some crappy novelty stage show. They can also play. Sufferer For Fashion (a melodic blasting call to arms) and Hemidalsgates Like A Promethean Curse (a synthetic psychedelic paean) were ones that stuck in my now multicoloured brain. At moments I thought they were like Joy Division with a rainbow splash of The National. Then I though they were Talking Heads mixed with an electrified Mercury Rev fronted by David Bowie. No wonder people found them so hard to describe.

Of Montreal are a defibrillator to the mangy heart of regular guitar bands. They are sparking, inventive and a whole lotta fun. If they were a food, they'd be hummus filled falafel in a bowl of stoned jellyfish, thrown over ecstasy laced happy people.