Goat Girl review, The Garage, London: Painting a brutish, sleazy portrait of this divided isle

The band don’t care much for restraint and rattle through their set with minimum fuss and minimum chat

Ben Walsh
Thursday 03 May 2018 13:28 BST
Comments
Goat Girl at the Garage
Goat Girl at the Garage (Rex)

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

“Build a bonfire, put the Tories on the top/Put the DUP in the middle and we’ll burn the fucking lot,” screams Goat Girl frontwoman Lottie “Clottie” Cream on “Burn the Stake”, tonight’s opener.

It’s not subtle but then this post-punk, post-Brexit all-female quartet don’t much care for restraint. Rowdiness, rage (on “Scum” Clottie posits “how can an entire nation be so fucking thick”) and humour (witness their video for “The Man”, which gently mocks Beatlemania in their moptop heyday) are more these south Londoners’ agenda.

They’ve been compared to The Libertines, but Barat and Doherty espoused a romantic English idyll, whereas Goat Girl paint a more brutish, skewed, sleazy portrait of this divided isle.

Crucially, however, these four early twentysomethings with playful names – Clottie, guitarist LED, bassist Naima Jelly and drummer Rosy Bones – are a slick live proposition, like a blend of the Cramps, Luscious Jackson and the Pixies with a smattering of rockabilly and even Led Zeppelin throw in.

The foursome rattle through their hour-long set with minimum fuss, minimal chat and (disappointingly) no encore. Highlights are the unsettling “Cracker Drool”, “Country Sleaze”, on which Clottie claims “I’m disgusting/I’m a shame to this so-called human race”, “The Man”, a song that prompts moshing and three audience members to climb on to others’ shoulders, and the goth-flavoured “Scum”, all from their eponymous, 19-song debut record.

Will these erudite performers prove a jolly flash in the pan or can they endure? Hopefully, the latter.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in