DIY duo The Lovely Eggs played their London date on their UK tour last night at Oslo in Hackney. Prior to the gig, the bar downstairs was gently soundtracked by the clinking of wine glasses and the general murmurings of those at the East London bar. Amongst them were the charming band, mixing and milling about, outfitted in relatively plain and unsuspecting clothes. It was only when the playful Lancaster outfit began to perform, that the bar downstairs became virtually vacant. The space upstairs was full to the absolute brim.
In a sea of football shirts and baggy jeans, the eccentric husband and wife appeared in garishly fluorescent orange ponchos. Almost like a bizarre butterfly out of a crazy chrysalis, they ascended from the green room up the stage and ferociously ripped into their impressive hour long set. If you time travelled through space from Woodstock to Madchester, then maybe you get the image.
The pair relentlessly played their way through their set, taking a few specific moments in between songs to address the crowd. At one point, Holly whimsically spoke to the audience about how she’s felt anxious that ants can’t comprehend Australia, or sharks, for example. Holly said she feels like the ant; that she’s kept up at night thinking about things beyond her grasp. Philosophy lesson over, Holly sensibly reassures the audience to stop thinking so much about things and just enjoy life. ‘Fuck it’ seeming the perfect anthem for such a discussion. The performance of that song was by far the most magical; gig-goers held up their football scarves that were scrawled with the song title on it. It was an extraordinarily intimate moment that the band shared with the audience; their song sang loud and proud right back to them.
It is – just like the ant chat – precisely this bizarre brand of surrealism that penetrates most of their lo-fi and punk-inspired music; ‘Don’t Look at Me’ talks of ‘dressing gown noses’ and ‘car boot bones’; ‘Goofin’ Around’ is wildly whacky in its strange, distorted vocals – think about the good old days when we had those toy microphones that made you sound like a robot. ‘Magic Onion’ is unironically multi-layered, swinging from sweet psychedelica to gnarly guitar riffs that were unhinged in their fury. Much can be said for the charismatic front-woman, but it is also David’s tight and defiant drumming that moves each song along.
The dream-like duo are also keen to ground themselves from the strange; they requested that they take a photo of the audience in order to show their mum that their music is not ‘just a hobby’. What is so magnetic about the fuzz-laden DIY band is their ability to weave their Lancaster wit and charm into songs that are full of frenzy and sound, something astoundingly produced by only two instruments. The duo genuinely love what they do and just want to have fun, and it is precisely that electic energy that makes them so enjoyable to watch.
Check out their video for their new single, ‘I Shouldn’t Have Said That’ below: