REVIEW: Evilwitch at PopArt @ The Fly, on New Oxford Street - 10/01/09

Even squatting below a round of Indie Bingo on the night's bill, Evilwitch must have been pleased as piss punch to have bagged a slot at The Fly only weeks after their conception in the rural tranches of Worcestershire.

But consider the fact they boast a line-up mainly consisting of current And What Will Be Left Of Them? members - who are signed to PopArt London - and you won't need to drag Hercule Poirot away from his Belgian buns to solve this little mystery.

While bands landing gigs on reputation can potentially be a recipe for catastrophe, Evilwitch did not disappoint the intimate crowd gathered in the beery, dark bowels of the venue for a gig which had the air of an EP launch to its atmosphere. The foursome sauntered collectedly through seven tracks, with the familiar crowd gobbling up the pop morsels thrown at them.

Those familiar with AWWBLOT will recognise the foundations on which the house named Evilwitch has been built; namely shouty words and sharp guitar from Pete combined with clever backing harmonies and accomplished hitting of drums from Chris. But picture AWWBLOT as the exuberant, petulant kid-brother tanked up on jelly babies and ready to set fire to your curtains; compared to Evilwitch as the older sibling - still with the same A.D.D genes and wouldn't think twice about pissing in your coffee - but with an air of controlled delivery. No less energy, but think more communist leader's speech rather than the Cheeky Girls on speed. That kind of energy.

I'm not Mystic Meg (and if I was I'd have sacked my stylist and sold my crystal balls for rum and cheese a long time ago), but my bold prediction is that some of Evilwitch's songs from the gig will not fair well in the test we call 'time'. Oh My God and Staring at the Sun were stand-out nuggets; breakdown harmonies/build ups laced together with a more unified approach from the individual band members made them both instantly likeably and an impressive listen. Others were also worthy of a note, but a couple of weeks on they escaped the depths of my brain for recollection which is probably not the kind of omen you'd want for a song when deciding the final cut for your opening EP - something I'm sure they will be doing soon.

Satellite was a swashbuckling end to the set with an indie cut to its jib; a catchy guitar riff providing a jaunty underlay, it was a good note to part company on. We will see their faces, torsos mouths and legs soon, of that I'm sure.