Seafood are a difficult band to get your head round. They’ve been floating around on the scene for years and yet they never seem to go anywhere. Watching them tonight in the sweaty armpit of Manchester that is the Roadhouse, they seem to encapsulate a time from six years ago when there were so many exciting young British bands doing the toilet circuit. It wasn’t a life-changing time, and it’s never going to be heralded as any kind of influential era, but for teenagers going to their first gigs it was something special. Where bands like Cable disappeared off the planet and others like Snow Patrol have rocketed to ridiculous levels, Seafood have just been hanging around on the outskirts, kicking their scruffy Converse-d heels. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. There is something endearing about a band who continue to keep their head above water (just) despite all odds.

The past two years can’t have been easy. In 2003 Seafood became label-less as Mushroom was taken over by Warner Brothers and the band’s difficult, obscure sound dropped from the roster. This in conjunction with singer David’s recent health problems has not really helped the promotion of this year’s widely acclaimed As the Cry Flows album. Like their contemporaries Idlewild, Seafood started their career playing angular yet saccharine post-whatever, and over the last two albums they’ve become confident enough to drop the distortion and reveal mature and original song-writing.

As professional live appearances go, tonight is pretty poor. Sound problems, continual string-snapping and occasional lapses of musical memory make the show comically disorganised. Fortunately though everyone here is a faithful fan so we just laugh at the hitches and marvel when things go right. The set is varied and highlights span their four albums. The chaotic country of ‘Heat Walks Against Me’ sounds absolutely immense as it builds up to its ridiculous climax, in which you find yourself lost in a cavern of sound. Once they remember how it goes, an impromptu performance of ‘Porchlight’ is a sour/sweet beauty to behold. We are even treated to two, count ‘em two versions of ‘Cloaking’, which is a little odd but well received nevertheless.

If this review seems to position Seafood as a band who are stuck in a rut, it doesn’t mean to. In terms of success, it’s true that they’ve been caught on a treadmill for the past five years, but musically they have travelled the distance. The new album has caused a few extra ears to prick up so whether they fade and disappear or starting making appearances on Popworld, the best advice is to go and see them now while they’re still playing the shitty venues. Cos you know that’s where all the most intriguing music can be found.

Photo by Sonia Melot