O. Children

Last night I found myself in London’s (un)fashionable Shoreditch at a monthly “electro party” with the rather unpleasant name, “Dollop”. The bar was full of moustachio’ed buffoons who will be able to reflect comfortably on their sartorial misdemeanours in a few short years.
I am happy to report however, that the scene upstairs was slightly different. The Old Blue Last is actually a great venue with a high, black back-dropped stage and impressive sound. O. Children, the only live act of the night, are fronted by a statuesque model type with a croon pitched somewhere between Adam Green and Paul Banks of Interpol. The rhythm section sport the kind of hair-cuts that take up hours of valuable rehearsal time and the guitarist looks like the kind of lad who your mum would like to cook a nice meal for. Musically, it’s the kind of slightly dark, 80s-tinged electro-pop embraced by the bright young things which doesn’t seem to want to go away in a hurry.

The good news is that O. Children have a strong grasp of the dynamics of a good alt-pop tune and also know a hook when it looks them in the face. Singer Tobias can command a room but also has that tiny degree of gawkish self-consciousness that will make him likeable, if not adorable to girls and guys up and down the land. A brief, energy-charged set convinces everyone in the room and they are on their way. Tobias’ closing words, “Remember the name, O. Children”.

Keep ‘em peeled.