Review: White Denim, O2 Academy

White Denim is a peculiar band – their music can’t be easily described; a mix of experimental, prog and psychedelic rock, with add-ons of soul and blues (that’s as concise as it gets). Their entrance tonight on the O2 Academy stage is a good reflection of this ambiguity that the band likes to nourish – the lights fade instantly and Sandstorm by Darude blasts in the speakers. The crowd laughs at the unusual intro as the band grab their instruments and exchange conniving looks with the audience.

One breath inhaled and the set starts. From the first couple of songs the audience is blown away by the instrumental skills on show. It feels like every note has its own story and if one messes up then lead singer and guitarist James Petralli picks up on it and doesn’t hesitate to stop the song midway to start all over again. To play their music one needs to be really tight and precise, as the band likes subtle rhythmic shifts and crazy soli that respond to one another. The whole set feels like one hypnotic song that encounters ups and downs, like the flow of life. The almost-full Academy is in trance, some people nodding their heads and balancing from one knee to the other, some others shouting and dancing like disarticulated puppets, especially on better known songs such as Shake Shake Shake.

White Denim sounds like Deep Purple at times and some Gentle Giant influence can be heard at others, while Petralli’s voice brings a soul dimension to the music. Bass player Steven Terebecki adds some tight funky grooves that make it look so damn easy. Michael Hunter on the keyboards is on fire throughout the whole set and Greg Clifford on the drums is like a human machine nailing all the rhythmic jumps so flawlessly that it is easy to forget that he has only two hands and two feet. The so-so-on-point rhythmic section gives Petralli room for mad soli and funny facial expressions such as on Holda You (I’m Psycho).

Everything goes well until Terebecki breaks a string on his bass. Petralli decides to stop the song altogether so that his comrade can swap his bass guitar for its emergency replacement. As Petralli technically indicates his band where to start again in the song, he mumbles “we are nerds”, which provokes some giggles in the crowd. That is as much interaction that the audience will get with the band unfortunately.

As Petralli realises that they are short for time, he announces that they will finish a bit after the curfew, apologises to the crowd and quickly thanks them for attending. There is no time for an encore and the rest of the set feels a bit like a marathon, where the band tries to cram in as many songs as they can before being cut off. A little less technic and a little bit more emotion would be welcomed in this instance – or a slight shortening of the set, to make it a bit more digestible. It is a lot of notes to swallow, but it is refreshing to see a modern band experimenting with old and new music and attract fresh blood to their gigs, which is an undisputable sign that music is timeless. And… it’s finally time to breathe out.

All photos by Phil Watson.