There are plenty of people who do not seem to be too sure about this four-piece from New York, likening them to Interpol’s ilk, which is a bit of a distraction from the main cause, as Interpol churn out straighter less dishevelled songs compared to the restless, slightly off-kilter tracks that make up The Double’s back catalogue. Certainly The Double’s press sits conveniently situated between two sides of the love and hate fence, without leaving many betwixt or between.

Riding on the coat-tails of their latest album release, Loose in the Air, the band come on stage somewhat humbly without fanfare, picking out a few notes on their instruments. Suddenly after 20 or so seconds this inspires dawning realisation on the audience that they have actually started the set, which then curtails random conversations that were still jangling out across the bar.

Soon all chatter is firmly abolished once and for all, as panel-beater drumming rains out across the room with Jeff McLeod hammering away on his kit, whilst shaking his head from side to side, looking like a life-sized version of a monkey-banging-a-drum toy. Frankly, whether it’s the fixed maniacal grin attached to his face, or the slightly eerie vocals from David Greenhill, but I’m feeling slightly on edge, though either way The Double now have my full attention.

Crashing keyboards with haunting lyrics are floating across the room, thrown over growling bass and angry guitar. David Greenhill stands there on the first number with microphone in one hand and with the other, bashing out bass notes on his Rheem Kee bass keyboard. Swapping between bass guitar and the bass keyboard all night, he keeps the songs rolling out with little pause between tracks, focusing the audience only on the music.

Guitarist Donald Beaman, complete with a heavy beard, stands on stage completely unrecognisable from his clean-cut press photos. The noise from his guitar is spat out in glorious fashion, reminding us that with the thick treacle-covered bass and tender vocals there is still a not-to-be-trusted edge to The Double’s music. Keyboard noise sits under the
bass and drums more than they do on the CD, adding further depth and texture.

Throwing out some of the tracks from their Palm Fronds album reminds us that The Double have been doing this for a while and have more than a few songs in their repertoire, with ‘Blanket on a Beach’ thrown in as their second number. The later ‘Idiocy’ placed mid-set sounds closer to the recorded version against all the other tracks, which seem to have taken on a slightly deviant life form of their own.

The first time the band acknowledges that the audience is even in the room with them is after the last track on the short, 40-minute, nine-song set. With the sense that the songs have been firmly put back in their box until the next time, a chirpy “thanks a lot we’re the Double and we will be around for a couple more days” is offered out. It seems prophetic and yet just like The Double, slightly modest. If the band continues to carve out sublime performances like this, then The Double should be around for much more than just a few more days, thankfully.
(4/5)

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