Can you play a keytar? Do you even know what a keytar is? I’m not sure I’d ever actually been in the same room as one before this show. Where does one even get a keytar? Have you ever walked into a music shop and seen anyone perusing the available models of keytars? “Yeah I’ll take the Right Said Fred signature model in white with a Fender strap and I’d really like to loop that through a big fuck-off fuzz pedal, really shake the fucking place to its foundations, yeah?” The Future of the Left bassist plays kazoo on one track. I saw her do it on a boat in Bristol once. But I had never seen a band with a keytar. I have now though and I feel better for it.
I definitely can’t play a keytar, let alone sing at the same time. Tipos de Interés’ frontman can though — just about anyway, as long as the mike’s tilted down at such an angle that he can see the keys on his keytar and his own fingers and keep his mouth in proximity with the mike itself. That makes it sound like this band isn’t very musical proficient, and in reality they’re not. But this is a punk show at a rock club and if you want to see a virtuoso, the Palau de la Música’s a bus ride and a month’s salary away.
Tipos de Interés play a kind of garage pop punk with a heavy dollop of sixties-ness. Some tracks sound like Grease covers but minus the cheese and with a lot more attitude. That’s not to see there isn’t some cheese, cheese was present — these guys are a horn section and a couple of Hawaiian shirts away from being one of those mid noughties happy-go-lucky ska acts that no one admits to liking anymore — but there’s enough griminess, grit and bile to keep these jams from going full stilton con leche.
Jordi’s taped up keytar, Ramones-aping leather/ denim/ t-shirt combo and a solid cover of The Clash’s Career Opportunities lend the whole enterprise a late 70s “year zero” vibe that’s very difficult to hate because a) it sounds and looks ace and b) they so obviously don’t care what the fuck you think. Sure, the jams are basic, and there’s a nervous sloppiness to the performance, but Tipos de Interés’ jingly-jangly pop hooks and complete lack of pretention gives them a certain authentic charm. Plus, it’s amazing the difference fifteen minutes and a friendly crowd can make. By the mid-point in the set they look less like they’re merely surviving each song and more like they’re enjoying the experience. Which is kind of how I felt about it too.
By John Miskelly
Circumstances surrounding Futuro Terror’s recent performance at Magazine conspired to create my own, personal minor miracle last Friday night. A band I like, on a label from a town where I’d lived, with a cracking album, was playing for free on a Friday night at the end of my street, and I was very excited. It almost didn’t matter that I arrived super late.
After cramming a Tupperware of cold chili and half a baguette in my face on my half hour metro commute to Angel Guimerá, I pegged it to Magazine, arriving just as Tipos de Interés were finishing their supporting set. Soon after, Futuro Terror set up and started playing with little introduction, launching into a run of tracks from their album. Their grubby-but-tight punk rock vibe translates well in performance, especially the already muscular drum parts, which gained extra wallop from the relatively small venue. Faster songs like Atracción were played at a gratifyingly accelerated pace while high-flying, slower choruses like in Su Lamento became stratospheric. It was clear that Futuro Terror combine an awareness of what propels their well-constructed songs with the chops to enhance them on stage. Accordingly, there was a degree of professionalism to their playing; they nailed each stop-start rhythmic transition, there was little deviation in song structure, and even their new material felt well-practised. Bar a couple of quickly rectified false starts and dropped beats their playing was fully on point.
What had me grinning like pug in a hotel all set long, however, was much more than a well-oiled machine churning out garage rock gems: as well as playing with consummate skill, Futuro Terror are plain fun to watch. Throughout the set local fans (and maybe a road manager?) were jostling, dancing, even picking up and dropping the bassist, who to his credit never missed a note. Before their encore he stayed on stage, working the crowd like a standup comedian – ‘go home, we’re finished … what are you waiting for?’ You could tell he was enjoying himself, and it was this inclusive energy that made the whole event a treat; seeing bands you like playing well and having fun is the fucking best.
By Alex Minshall