20 October saw a packed out Headrow House (it’s a 150-capacity venue but still, packed out) play host to glitch-hop electro weirdos Jockstrap (although other catch-all genre tags are available) for a whimsically joyous and strangely endearing freak-fest.
Ok, perhaps this oddness should be played down slightly, but there’s no denying that the experimental duo’s smashing together of genres, and their copiously conveyed eccentricity has won a cult following over the past few years. Links to Black Country New Road via vocalist and violinist Georgia Ellery have aided the group’s growth, but as important is Taylor Skye’s wild and colourful instrumental layering that forms the backing to Georgia’s madcap lyricism.
An inevitable result of such a duo’s existence is the strange reality that as a live act, this surreal music requires replication. While pessimists may dismiss this group as a vanity project of Georgia’s, the reality could not be more different. Jockstrap are a creatively euphoric force as a live act within their own right, a reality on display at Headrow House.
Off the back of the widely discussed Wicked City EP, Jockstrap’s live show pulled heavily from this project but also included further releases, as well as unreleased material. But, despite the experimental creativity of the band’s music, their live performances were lacking in the dour exterior that consumes many experimental groups’ live shows. Don’t get me wrong, furiously pounding mic stands against drum kits and generic anarchic destruction are some of the most enjoyable aspects of the rockier side of experiential performance, but with the glitch and hip-hop influences that inform Jockstrap’s unique sound, the show replaces some of these aspects with a cheerier exterior.
Taylor’s electronics would momentarily pause for him to survey the audience, like a caring schoolteacher ensuring their class were behaving compassionately (for the most part they were), while Georgia innocently halted violin solos to brandish her violin bow as if it were a heavenly yet fatal weapon.
Yet, despite these qualities replacing the often dour exterior that occupies many an experimental performance, some characteristics remain. Crushingly huge mosh-pits consumed the entire room like a whirlpool of destruction, this tempestuous ritual coasting from corner to corner of this modestly sized venue. At one stage Georgia warns of overcrowding at the front while simultaneously reassuring audience members that dancing (if we can call this dancing) is still very much encouraged. The highlight of audience engagement was saved for closing track ‘The City’, a fan favourite during which Georgia’s pitch-shifted vocals and Taylor’s jagged instrumental forces audience members into a pit that deceptively and artificially augments the venue’s capacity.
And perhaps this is what makes a Jockstrap live show so curious: the scale of the performance appears greater in size than the physical components that make up the spectacle. Audience members clash into one another with each crash of Taylor’s strange and hypnotically appealing mixes, while Georgia acts as this weird circus’ ringleader. If Black Country New Road are the ‘absolute pinnacle of British engineering’, then Jockstrap are the absolute pinnacle of British eccentricity, experimentalism, and dare I even say fun.