[Originally published on Orange.co.uk]The next big thing: a double-edged compliment if ever there was one. Having formed less than 12 months ago, much-hyped Manc duo The Ting Tings arrive for their biggest headline show to date all too aware that the fall from grace can be brutal should you fail to measure up.
If the pair are fazed by the palpable sense of anticipation in this rammed East London venue, they certainly don’t show it, dispatching their new single ‘Great DJ’ as a sassy, confident opening salvo. Sure, it’s join-the-dots indie-disco, but the insistent post-punk riffs and singer Katie White’s sultry, knowing delivery raise it above the generic. ‘Fruit Machine’ – its “kerching!” hook possibly reflecting their record label’s reaction upon hearing the track – is playful and erotically charged, a teasing vocal building to a Karen O-style caterwaul for the chorus.
Sadly, the quality dips from here on in. Drummer Jules De Martino switches to guitar duties for ‘Traffic Light’, an ill-advised stab at a stripped-down blues ballad which only serves to disrupt the set’s momentum. Much of the material sounds rather two-dimensional, the backing tracks failing to have the impact a full band might have provided. An instantly forgettable newie even manages to summon the unwelcome spectre of Republica.
Despite White giving it her best rip-her-to-shreds Debbie Harry moves and De Martino’s undeniably infectious energy, it’s hard to shake off the niggling whiff of contrivance surrounding the Ting Tings. The band’s vogueish grrrrl pop sound is just rough enough around the edges to be marketed to a credibility-conscious indie market, while remaining safely daytime radio-friendly. Not a bad thing per se, it’s just that with the likes of The Go! Team and Black Kids so definitively setting the standard in exuberant, distortion-heavy pop, it all sounds a little tame.
Interest is belatedly revived with their hook-laden, Toni Basil-aping anthem ‘That’s Not My Name’, but it’s not enough to stave off the gnawing sense of anti-climax at the end of this half-hour set. In a notoriously fickle musical climate, the Ting Tings have the air of a purely ephemeral concern.
If the pair are fazed by the palpable sense of anticipation in this rammed East London venue, they certainly don’t show it, dispatching their new single ‘Great DJ’ as a sassy, confident opening salvo. Sure, it’s join-the-dots indie-disco, but the insistent post-punk riffs and singer Katie White’s sultry, knowing delivery raise it above the generic. ‘Fruit Machine’ – its “kerching!” hook possibly reflecting their record label’s reaction upon hearing the track – is playful and erotically charged, a teasing vocal building to a Karen O-style caterwaul for the chorus.
Sadly, the quality dips from here on in. Drummer Jules De Martino switches to guitar duties for ‘Traffic Light’, an ill-advised stab at a stripped-down blues ballad which only serves to disrupt the set’s momentum. Much of the material sounds rather two-dimensional, the backing tracks failing to have the impact a full band might have provided. An instantly forgettable newie even manages to summon the unwelcome spectre of Republica.
Despite White giving it her best rip-her-to-shreds Debbie Harry moves and De Martino’s undeniably infectious energy, it’s hard to shake off the niggling whiff of contrivance surrounding the Ting Tings. The band’s vogueish grrrrl pop sound is just rough enough around the edges to be marketed to a credibility-conscious indie market, while remaining safely daytime radio-friendly. Not a bad thing per se, it’s just that with the likes of The Go! Team and Black Kids so definitively setting the standard in exuberant, distortion-heavy pop, it all sounds a little tame.
Interest is belatedly revived with their hook-laden, Toni Basil-aping anthem ‘That’s Not My Name’, but it’s not enough to stave off the gnawing sense of anti-climax at the end of this half-hour set. In a notoriously fickle musical climate, the Ting Tings have the air of a purely ephemeral concern.
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