Trying my own, more human version of Shazam over the weekend, I wrote ‘AlunaGeorge, rebound’ into the notes on my phone to look up early this week. AlunaGeorge are the British duo probably best known to this point for their work alongside Disclosure on one of their earlier singles, ‘White Noise‘. Indeed, I’d hazard a guess that that contribution to UK’s nu-dance scene accounted for much of the sizable mid-afternoon crowd they drew at Sydney’s inaugural Listen Out festival on Saturday. Despite the burgeoning amount of information at our fingertips, it seems a band can still bank on an audience off the back of a contribution to someone else’s record. Not to be outdone by their feature spot on this year’s outstanding ‘Settle‘, AlunaGeorge are probably painfully aware that they can convert or divert throngs of people on the strength or weakness of their live show. Going on their blistering set on Saturday, they’re stepping up to the challenge.
At what looked to be eleventy-five feet tall, Aluna (Francis, the other half, straightforwardly, is George, Reid) doesn’t seem to really have to step up to anything. So often the short stature of Hollywood and music idols is a source of disillusionment. Statuesque Aluna, by contrast, has your attention immediately for her height and her moves. The voice, thankfully, follows. As much as a writhing Aluna is a fantastic thing to look at, she backs up her choreography with a voice so true to record that Brother J and I had a serious debate, during a rendition of ‘White Noise’ for which she was trotted out by the Disclosure brothers, about whether she was actually singing or not. She was. She just happens to do a damn fine job at reproducing pixie-like, occasionally nasal but always endearing vocals, all while jumping on the spot for entire choruses and otherwise dancing like a girl possessed.
Listening back to ‘Lost & Found’ today, I am not nearly as impressed with the recorded version on AlunaGeorge’s debut LP, ‘Body Party’, released two months ago. George, on production duties and bolstered by a three-piece band, did a far better job reworking live the vocal samples and 8-bit sounds that go into making this a gem of electronic/R&B/bubblegum pop and evoke the late 90s/early 2000s supergroups like The Sugababes. That AlunaGeorge present even better in the flesh than they do on record augurs well for winning over those legions of curious but as yet unconvinced fans. A later cover of Montell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It‘ sounded spot on on Saturday where Pitchfork derided it on record as ‘misguided‘. In a way, then, I feel odd recommending ‘Lost & Found’ to you in this recorded iteration. Instead, take this post as a qualified endorsement of AlunaGeorge’s ability to write great tracks, a resounding endorsement of AlunaGeorge live and a heartening reminder that even the most seemingly manufactured duos can often hold it down when it comes to crunch time.
AlunaGeorge – Lost & Found
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