Synchronically of the moment, Razorlight offer the full, garage art-rock package � pick-axe guitars, taut snare-drum smacks, and shaky vox. The distinctly British retro sound, the �cool� economy boho look, all with a frontman who has the same sexual allure as your mate�s big brother studying at the Slade.
In this prestigious, jazzy London hideout, the 100 Club becomes host to a clutch full of intense blazer-clad fans that have grasped onto the hype of recently released singles �Rip It Up� (a top-40 hit this weekend�?) and �Rock �N� Roll Lies�. Two-thirds of this crammed room, however, sighs with industry movers �n� fakers. This is crunch-time for Razorlight � and they�re shattering walnuts everywhere.
Despite the lukewarm beer and, how can we say� bemusing facial-expressions of guitarist Bjorn Agren, The Raveonettes support-slots seem to have paid off. The foursome is tight, immediate and, more importantly � ready.
Almost a lighter-hearted, more universally pop-offering to the world than Borrell�s former comrades The Libertines, songs wrestle and sweat buckets. With past musical histories (drummer Christian Smith-Pancorvo once a part of Stony Sleep), Razorlight apparently observed and commentated on the London scene; �the fake culture, the febrile women and the tension of the big city�. With their contrasting offering of American, English and er� Swedish influences/cultural backgrounds, they made their music: reflecting their four different personalities and experiences� how novel.
Yet their sound isn�t anything really new. Their songs do result in a crowd of �shaking asses� and �indie-stomps� to the kick-drum but Razorlight set their eyes on a bigger prize than that. By rights, they could some day be playing the same-scale venues as their Rough Trade counterparts. But at this point in time, thrillingly, it�s still early days.
Samantha Hall