THE Sheffield hand with the somewhat porcine monicker have been building up a steady standing on the live circuit, and they've even managed to inveigle their way into TV presenter Chris Evans's favour, becoming regular guests on the ginger haired demigod's Friday night show. Midnight At The Olympia on Saturday night was the umpteenth pig gig in a continuing itinerary which has taken the band through the UK, Europe and even North America, but the relatively mediocre turnout is a sobering reminder that this fledgling act still has some distance to travel before it reaches full saturation.
The Longpigs have one weapon in their favour, and that's an ability to come up with instantly likeable songs which grind their way into your consciousness like gem encrusted drill bits. They brought out the first one, Lost Myself, early in the set, bringing the front rows to their feet and causing the rather over conscientious security staff to block the fans way to the front of the stage. Since the Olympia wasn't exactly stuffed on the night in question, it seemed an unnecessarily heavy handed exercise in crowd control.
The band's onstage enthusiasm was unhindered, however, and the four piece put forward a united sonic front, sounding like a more paranoid version of Radiohead, and delivering an even handed mix of heavy grunge and light, melodic Britpop. Sometimes, however, the whole thing went off balance, and Jesus Christ collapsed in a flurry of screaming guitars and strangled vocals.
Singer Crispin Hunt holds the audience's rapture with his commanding voice and his boyish looks, more Jarvis Cocker than Damon Albarn, with a bit of young Sting thrown in for good measure. When he takes a solo spot for a rather racy tune about the female vagina, he gets away with it on sheer, soft hearted naivety. Guitarist Richard Hawley is flashy but focused and as he grips his hollow bodied Gibson with consummate concentration he reminds you of a younger, slightly more tentative, Noel Gallagher.
If the Longpigs are hoping to go the distance, then songs like Far, Sally Dances and On & On will give them a strong start. The extended, overblown Elvis, however, seems to lose itself among the swirling, psychedelic breaks and alternating time signatures.
