Beach Baby
Exactly a year to the day since their debut Norwich show at the last edition of Sound & Vision festival, garage-pop quartet Beach Baby brought back the essence of summer to a small but buzzy audience on a cold night at the Waterfront Studio.
Kicking things off, local boys Odder Seas’ set is frenzied in places and ambient in others. It’s clear Foals are a big influence – a daring but well executed rendition of Mountain At My Gates is slotted in comfortably – but to really take their act to the next level they should focus on refining their own voice. Outline and BBC Introducing’s The Cut alumni Marigolds are up next. Their dreamy, surf rock numbers are interrupted occasionally by technical issues (at least in part due to frontman Joe Maguire using “my mum’s dinner tray” as a pedal board) but their sound is impressively full nonetheless. Short Shorts is infectiously upbeat and London dispels any remaining shred of an autumn chill in the air with its punchy chorus.
After forming at Bristol University in 2013, Beach Baby have put out sunny single after sunny single, culminating in the release of their debut album No Mind No Money, on Island Records last month. They headlined Norwich Arts Centre back in April, and although tonight doesn’t seem a whole lot busier than back then, the opening notes of Sleeperhead punch a refreshing wave into the gathered fans, Josh ‘Shep’ Hodgson’s vigorous drumming leading the charge.
A summer road-tripping across America with Beaty Heart seems to have injected a fresh groove into the group, whose slightly geeky stage presence before now takes on a more ‘so not cool it’s cool’ approach. Frontman Ollie Pash sports a surprisingly fetching mullet and thin-framed spectacles, with the super casual Laurence Pumfrey tinkering away next to him on guitar and keys. Together, they look like some obscure combination of an 80's dad and his teenage son. “My Dad went to UEA”, Pash aptly notes, “so I’ve got faith in you, Norwich”.
Their charming image is reflected in the music, which glistens and twinkles with hazy curiosity. Smoke Won’t Get Me High brings a spot of funky downtime between dizzying pop numbers like U R, but it’s those sugary 3-minute-something delights that the trendy audience lap up. An extended Powder Baby floats out like a heavy fog, before the rattles and shimmers of Limousine close an explosive set from a dazzling band you really ought to get in your life.
