Betty Clarke 

The Mendoza Line

Arts Cafe, London
  
  


Most bands tire of enjoying the exclusive attention of one another before the ink is dry on their first royalty check. Pretty soon, teenage best-friend bonding sours into a begrudging dependence for the sake of success.

That's not true of the Mendoza Line, who live up to their country leanings by acting like one big, hierarchical but happy family. Laughing, joking and mutually reassuring, they are the post-college Waltons with broken hearts and filthy language.

Taking their name from a baseball term for a particularly spectacular underachiever, the Mendoza Line have spent the past eight years honing their eccentric, melodic songs only to find themselves cast as alternative country also-rans.

This is the Mendoza Line's debut UK gig and, as the lilting sound of Queen of England, from last year's Lost in Revelry album, begins, Bracy, whose vocals are soft and Dylan-esque, is a jangling bunch of nerves. Shannon Mary McArdle's fragile, folk-hued harmonies make sense of his ill-formed words and she stares at him, willing him to calm down. "Yeah, Timmy, it sounds good," she says, taking, along with guitarist and singer Peter Hoffman, a parental role as Bracy veers from introspective poet to hyperactive child.

Damn Good Disguise swells from quiet acoustic wish to rocky, urgent demand, and Bracy's shyness is replaced by raw energy. His words are again interpreted by McArdle as he yells, his face aflame with aggression, humility traded for hysteria as the guitar writhes below him. "Now we're getting serious," he shrieks. "C'mon, let's do it!"

Hoffman sings Baby, I Know What You're Thinking with genuine affection, the driving rhythm meshing with the pure pop as his voice rises for the romantic refrain.

But, despite Bracy's best cheerleading efforts, the Mendoza Line are fighting against waning interest, and McArdle's attempts to do justice to the delicate love song Way of the Weak falter, though Bracy rewards her with a hug.

"Has anyone had any fun at least?" asks Hoffman, exasperated. "I had fun," replies McArdle. As she surveys the band with an indulgent smile, you believe her.

 

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