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With Battles downstairs and Guillemots upstairs The Zodiac hosts two bands championed by Zane Lowe in the Download鈥檚 interview before Christmas. Oh! The agony of choice. We plump for Guillemots as it鈥檚 the last date of their tour and the drummer used to thump skins for Oxford鈥檚 Suitable Case For Treatment. If you saw Battles let us know what you thought! The PA resonates with what sounds like whale song or jungle birds or possibly even the noise they use in films to indicate approaching dinosaurs. Bathed in blue light, Fyfe Dangerfield sings solo. Eerie synth creeps in and as the light turns red the rest of the band emerge from the crowd amidst the clamour of sirens, brass, percussion and keyboard effects. The whole gig is quite theatrical, thanks in part to the classical orchestration. Guillemots鈥 opener reminds me of a storm scene, I鈥檓 imagining the wind roaring round a ship as it capsizes. An animal/ nature theme develops throughout the night and there鈥檚 a somewhat primal feel in the air especially on single We鈥檙e Here鈥檚 thunderous drumming. Trains to Brazil is exultant with stirring chord changes and hats off to them for sneaking the word 鈥榚rroneous鈥 into a pop song. Dangerfield is a funny little man throwing his head back, opening his heart up and wailing his lungs out. He鈥檚 the centre piece but it鈥檚 a good move bringing in the extra elements so he stands out from the David Grays of this world. In his cap and scarf he reminds me of Richard Walters though I鈥檓 sure others would disagree. How about Doogie Howser MD grows facial hair and wigs out? A few songs are introduced as 鈥渜uiet and reflective鈥 possibly a bit too much so. There鈥檚 chatting at the back, the audience are all hyped up from the Mystery Jets鈥 support slot and a girl asks me to write that they were better. Guillemots seem to realise and rectify the situation temporarily with a bit of audience participation, we鈥檙e told to go 鈥楤RRR!鈥 and 鈥榃OOF WOOF WOOF鈥 and we make monkey howls, 鈥榓iaiais鈥 and 鈥榓woogaawoogas鈥. There鈥檚 an entertaining exchange sparked off by a mad punter which I鈥檇 describe as brand name tennis: Mad Punter: 鈥淐asio!鈥 Fyfe Dangerfield: 鈥淵amaha!鈥 MP: 鈥淪uzuki!鈥 FD: 鈥淢oog!鈥 MP: 鈥淓MU!鈥 he鈥檇 obviously run out of keyboards which I suppose signifies the end of the game. But then Guillemots ignore the mood and stubbornly re-introduce the (some might say) self indulgent numbers. For their penultimate track Fyfe plays a keyboard with one finger, unamplified. We clap along hopefully and are promised a loud one 鈥淚f you give us an encore - we didn鈥檛 get one in Manchester鈥. You can guess why. The final melee consists of jazz brass mentalness, a tin bashed with a pot and a sound resembling a creaking hull. Repeating the lyric 鈥榯hrown across water鈥 it seems the band are sailing gloriously home. Yet rather than end on this high the group get their encore and play new acoustic ditty White Rag followed something disastrously bizarre that mainly goes SHE IS EVIL EEE EEE EEE. We along with many others sidle out of the room. Guillemots. By turns joyful and mournful, weird and wonderful, experimental and exasperating. I like them but must admit tonight was not the time or place for such a chin strokers set. | 
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