When the fifth row of a gig in a tiny club venue consists of several local scenesters, a big-name producer, Hilary Woods, a rock hack and a number of record company scouts, you can be pretty sure that there’s a buzz surrounding the headline act. So why all the fuss?
That’s a tricky one. Alligator are certainly a good band, but this writer, at least, would venture that they’re still a considerable distance from greatness. The standard guitar/bass/drums line-up is augmented by a keyboard player, who frequently underpins the band’s sound with bouncing mechanoid rhythms. This has both good and bad ramifications; although the band rock like bastards, their songs frequently end up sounding like slo-mo versions of Elastica’s ‘Connection’ or Blur’s ‘Girls & Boys’.
To be fair, this doesn’t exactly bother the crowd, who dance and sing along enthusiastically throughout the gig. Indeed, on ‘You Hurt Me’, the singer is confident enough to let the audience take over the choruses, and the response is deafening. Alligator have exactly two paces – fast and slow. Disappointingly, the non-shouty numbers stick rigidly to the rawk rulebook, all angsty vocals and epic guitar solos.
Overall, not a croc of shit, but not exactly mind blowing either. So, see you later, Allig – oh, you know.