This Town Needs Guns

“Movement would be nice but it’s not necessary,” singer Stuart Smith assures the crowd in a friendly British voice. “Considering there’s so many of you, you’re quite quiet.” It is almost awkward. The air in the Toff is muggy, people packed wall to wall, but the crowd is still and lulled.

Sure, it’s a Wednesday night, but there’s more to it. This Town Needs Guns isn’t an average rock band you can do the indie-bop-and-nod to all night. You can start kicking your feet to the beat – but you’ll shortly find you are out of sync. The band has been stamped with the obscure ‘math-rock’ label, characterised by their use of shifting time signatures within a song; washing the crowd with waves of tension and feelings of unpredictability in the music. Maybe some find it frustrating initially, the fickleness of rhythm, but the serenity of the crowd suggests they have submitted to the unfamiliar territory the band is leading them through.
 The set is an odyssey mainly through the band’s debut album, Animals; an expedition across a vivid, textured soundscape. Driving the irregular beat of the band, drummer Chris Collis delivers a highly precise and creative performance. Using every sound at his disposal, he mixes it up every few bars just to keep it interesting, such as in Panda, in which he pulses the snare sharply like a quickened heartbeat rushed with adrenalin.

Smith’s confident vocals soar across the room, floating and drifting as if on a breeze. He skilfully acts as the vocal adhesive in a band of musical complexities, but he never really stands out as a memorable or unique frontman, rather blending in as another instrumental sound.

Smith is partly overshadowed by the real ‘voice’ of the band; Tim Collis’mesmeric guitar. His floating harmonies wander across boundaries and octaves, his fingers racing freely across the entire range of the fretboard. Although he gives the impression of musical lawlessness, it is a controlled freedom. In actuality, his phrases are deliberate and beautifully ornate. Maybe no one ever bought Tim Collis a Mel Bay’s Guide to Guitar as a kid, or maybe he just never cared for convention. At times he taps effortlessly across frets, at others he’s playing with two capos.

The audience responds fondly to If I Sit Still Maybe I’ll Get Out of Here, the resonating, collective singing of the crowd adding depth to an already impassioned song. A big crowd response Is also rewarded to the fluid, rollingBelle and Sebastian. The song starts mellow and builds steadily into a huge climactic break like an enormous wave crashing over the Toff, then composes gently back into calm. In a set of similar sounding songs, however, the most distinctive is Zebra. The crowd is told to hush. A glockenspiel, tinkles like snowflakes. Quiet bass paces gently, great but hushed, like a bear tiptoeing through snow. Smith’s voice sighs, soft and melodic like in a lullaby. Patches of guitar fill in surrounding colour.

This Town Needs Guns have captivated their fans with a safari through a colourful, living soundscape. No wonder the crowd is so still. They don’t want to scare away the Animals.  

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