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Tundra Love and Mangö play Windmill Brixton

Tundra Love and Mangö play Windmill Brixton

Sam Hunter
Tundra Love and Mangö at The Windmill Brixton

When it came to 8pm this was the last thing I wanted to do.

I’d been to see Maribou State at Printworks on Saturday (probably shouldn’t/couldn’t review that one) and purposefully booked Monday off to recover. So why I thought a gig in the evening, on my own, would be a good idea is beyond me. 

Three cans of Aldi’s ‘premium’ lager later and I’m on my way, still as enthusiastic as a Brixton McDonald’s worker on a Friday night shift. 

I arrived late as I was trying, and failing, to upload the Bombay Bicycle Club photos. This meant I only managed to catch the final few aggressively distorted chords of Noise Noir, sorry.

Windmill Brixton is a pretty cool venue. To say it’s got the same gold foil tinsel backdrop as The Phoenix Club, but you don’t feel like your soul is disintegrating each second you spend in there is some triumph- and I’ve got a lot of time for it.

Mangö

The lead guitarist of Mangö is the spokesperson for the band. I’m not entirely sure why, as the awkwardness definitely wasn’t muffled by the silent crowd waiting for them to play. Someone then howled, like, wolf howled. I wasn’t sure if it was from the crowd or him, but it prompted the music to start. 

The opening song was pretty basic as far as the bass and rhythm guitar were concerned, but the lead guitar and vocals immediately let us know what we were in for. I fucking loved it.

Mangö are a bloody talented bunch. Their song structures make sense, but at the same time, they don’t… like when you’ve just woken up from a vivid dream and you try and recall it. A haphazard collection of noises that keep you on your toes both physically and mentally. 

Chloe (lead vocalist) is brilliant. Her voice compliments the band in a way that you probably wouldn’t have been able to put your finger on until you heard it; like adding gravy to chips.

This was cemented when they slowed it down with a song I can only imagine was called ‘Out on your own’, which I was. And it made me realise how much of a freak I was, leant against the bar nursing my Kronenberg on a Monday night.

I don’t know if I’m caught in a bubble at the moment or not, but there’s a common trend with overly long songs, often filled with instrumentals and weird noises. Maybe I’m getting old, but it gets on my tits. Mangö tiptoed on the sideline of being one of these bands, but escaped.

They’re definitely one to watch.

Tundra Love

Tundra Love, who were there to showcase their new single ‘Usurper’ which is ’a person who takes a position of power or importance illegally or by force’ for anyone as illiterate as me.

I really liked the energy of these lads. Another sharp, well rehearsed unit. It’s refreshing. I love a band that get stuck in, and these lads certainly delivered that. 

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About two songs in Callum (vocals/guitar) calls for someone to pass his pint ‘just the ale, not the hard stuff just yet’. Liar, I’d just seen him neck two tequilas in a row, the animal.

You get a Queens of the Stone Age vibe from them. The irreverent attitudes of the rhythm and tones, mixed with the vocals that are so stand-out that there’s an almost arrogance to them. 

I was on the tail end of a comedown so didn’t take many more notes after that.

Seeing gigs each week you realise there’s a fine line between a band that forever plays the local village hall and a potential winner. Mangö and Tundra Love have the potential.

Love you, 

Sam

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