MAJOR PARKINSON
VENUE The Dome, lonDon DATE 03/05/19
SUPPORT alWanzaTar, army oF moThs
Abewildering evening begins with an acoustic set from Army Of Moths. With twin vocals from David Sheridon and Debz Joy and a sound near the centre of the Syd Barrett/early Bowie/Cardiacs Venn diagram, attempts at cajoling the crowd are stymied by the pair’s habit of speaking over each other between songs. But over the course of the set a small but appreciative audience choir assemble stage front, and by the time closer I See You rolls around they’re engaged in lusty singalongs.
The action continues during an unexpectedly cacophonous break between acts, as the Greatest Hits Of Motown are pumped through the PA at the same time as Alwanzatar (AKA Kristoffer Momrak from Norwegian proggers Tusmørke) soundchecks. Long of hair and black of cloak, his set begins with muted rhythms that evolve into various dancefloor sounds, from scattergun drum and bass to squelching late-night trance. As the beats consolidate into patterns, Momrak fills in the foreground with blasts of flute, and after plenty of concentrated knob twiddling it’s goodnight, a quick wave, and he’s gone.
The Motown continues in the next break, with Lionel Ritchie luring the crowd towards sedation, before
Major Parkinson’s Claudia Cox arrives onstage to enliven proceedings with some looping violin. Eventually the band assemble around her, the last to arrive frontman Jon
“MAJOR PARKINSON ARE THE COLDPLAY CARDIACS, WITH GIANT, COMMERCIAL SONGS BENT INTO STRANGE, UNCOMMERCIAL
SHAPES.”
Ivar Kollbotn. He has the elegant bearing of a chemistry master from a well-to-do boys’ school, with wild hair and stylish threads, and flails his arms in a manner not seen since Jarvis Cocker’s heyday. He’s a riveting watch, even if his voice’s low register sometimes struggles to be heard above the music. During Lover, Lower Me Down he fashions a noose from the mic cable and twists it around his neck, and his attire is shed as the set progresses. Off comes the tie, waistcoat, shirt and braces, while the jacket maintains an on-off-on-off status, even reversing to double as a straightjacket during 197.
The music’s extraordinary. Its bombast could fill stadiums, with choruses you might think were designed for vast singalongs, were they not riven with enough otherworldly weirdness to truncate their appeal. Major Parkinson are the Coldplay Cardiacs, with giant, commercial songs bent into strange, uncommercial shapes. It’s thrilling, it’s joyous, and at the end, as Abba’s Dancing Queen blares from the PA and the band share champagne onstage, it’s only natural to hope they continue to keep it freaky.