Live Review: The Brow Horn Orchestra - Oxford Art Factory

9 July 2012 | 6:09 pm | Lachlan Williams

The Brow Horn Orchestra have smashed funk, hip hop, dancehall and techno together to form a sound that, if not totally original, is certainly irresistible.

On a rainy Thursday, the Oxford Art Factory played host to an odd and disparate bill. Belle & The Bone People had a dreamy, flowing style to their down-beat offerings. Alt-country and rockabilly sensibilities coloured their surf-rock/trip-hop compositions. They were best when they were at their least restrained and most relaxed, as their quieter moments contained a forced, elevated sense of drama.

Enerate's set opened superbly, their frontman growling and sardonic as he opened the set backed by his own acoustic guitar. Alas, things quickly went downhill when the rest of the band joined in. The synth, drums and bass served to turn what was a quite interesting acoustic sound into a stiff, derivative electro-pop genre-mash. The inclusion of a clapping solo (yes, seriously) was quite charming.

Hello Vera were the best of the supports, giving us dubbed-out trip hop with complex, rich rhythmic changes. While some of their more symphonic, layered moments were a bit crowded (a hazard of having two people banging keyboards at once), the majority of their set was stark, loquacious and sublime.

The less said about Holland the better. A hairy man in a singlet wailed about his feelings, backed by Matchbox 20's stunt doubles. Poppy, middle-of-the-road and utterly forgettable. They almost cleared the room.

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The Brow Horn Orchestra have smashed funk, hip hop, dancehall and techno together to form a sound that, if not totally original, is certainly irresistible. Their on-stage energy is more infectious than ebola, but luckily not nearly so distressing. They've got an odd, goofy frontman whose willingness to keep dancing and looking silly puts a crowd at ease. They've also got a two-piece horn section ('bass 'bone and trumpet), a rapping guitarist, a manic trombonist, a stuffed camel (it's kind of their mascot) and a sense of fun that just won't quit.

The BHO, as they will probably never become known, got the Oxford Arts as jumping as it was possible to get that night. While the crowd was small, shy and probably traumatised by having to watch Holland, the BHO drew us out of our shells and into their world of high-energy fun.

These guys are going to slay on the festival circuit and on summer radio. But you should see them first, so you can tell all your friends you did.