Lemon Jelly

When they initially arrived on the scene almost two years ago with their 'ky' debut, a collection of much sought-after 10"s, Lemon Jelly were linked with the slew of Air retro-chic copyists that emerged round about the same time. It now seems that that tag is far off the mark: in the same way that Air are inherently and resolutely Gaelic, this band are innately British. True, both acts share the same injection of humour into their work, but it is a different humour. Whereas LJ's French counterparts are all sly charm and knowing nods, this band are much more, well, wacky. Its a bad word and smacks of novelty, but its not the whole story, its not zany per se, its more novel than novelty; interesting, different and original.

The crowd in this most clubby of gig venues - Fabric's very own 93 Feet East - make interesting watching on their own. Its a collection of coffee-table scenesters (they'll probably be at Kosheen tomorrow night), thrill-happy students and a smattering of late-20-something professionals. This gig is not going to be rocking.

The tools of fun provided do create a party atmosphere, but it can all-too easily distract from the proceedings on stage, where Fred Deakin and Nick Franglen create almost perfect renditions of their recordings live. Not too surprising, as the songs are created largely from banks of keyboards and decks, with the odd smattering of live guitar and brass gently layered on top. Its not hard to see why the crowd fail to be enraptured by Lemon Jelly, much the same way as its not too hard too see why this is the only the band's second ever 'proper' gig (their first was the previous night); most of the songs are not built for a party, live or club arena. They're too intricate and intimate and chilled to force any sort of good time vibe. Only occasionally, with the likes of 'Ducks' thunderous beats that transmogrify from nowhere out of a Mr Scruff-esque barmy sample, do people start moving and begin ignoring the sideshow around them.

It would do the band an injustice to say that they haven't gone as far as they can in making this a good night, clearly every bit of thought has been put into an evening like this, and altogether its a fun, pleasant time. Songs like 'Spacewalk' and 'Closer' are sumptuous and the finale of 'Staunton Lick' is joyous. The quality of the music is not in doubt. Ultimately though, DiS walks away feeling like they've been to an evening where everything but the songs has counted more. And that's not right, is it?