Model beautiful, clad in black leather with peroxide hair, White Rose Movement look like an advert for skinny jeans. It’s an image which earns them instant attention, I remember you couldn’t miss them wandering through the fields at Rob Da Bank’s Bestival earlier in September. |
| They’re all the more striking on stage. Scarily sexy Taxxi on keyboards does them no harm in her black babydoll nightie and fishnets. Owen Dyke‘s face is obscured by his fringe as he twists and writhes around his bass. Mean machine guitarist Jasper Milton doesn’t crack a smile throughout while drummer Ed Harper whips his shirt off mid set. |
Posing for pics while singing with a nonchalance which stops just short of feeling forced, Finn Vine spends the majority of the gig standing on the barrier and swinging from the ceiling. One minute, he’s playing keys like he’s not even concentrating, the next he twirls off stage with a look of intent. “Come closer cos we’re White Rose Movement” he warns the frustratingly sparse crowd. Grumpiness with equipment is also part of his act “What the **** was that? Our keyboard is singing of its own accord” and even with his bandmates during the briefest of pauses between songs “Come on then, Jesus, I’m growing a beard” and “What are you waiting for? You’re keeping these beautiful people waiting”. |
However introducing debut single Love Is A Number with “You might know this one” brings the cool kids to the front to shake it and shout. Finn prefixes Girls In The Back with “I love this song” and adds a deadpan suffix “That was really fun”. He later flatters us “This is a song about the ****ing horrible place we live in. Its called London. S’not as nice as Oxford.”
|
|
|
|
| The White Rose Movement are drunk on the 80s. Their debut "Love is a Number" (Independiente) could have been a welcome addition to the soundtrack of The Breakfast Club, inviting further dance scenes and possibly more teenage riot. But there's no way you can afford not to sound like this when your keyboardist calls himself Taxxi. |
|
|
| When they do play it sounds like the soundtrack to a retro disco of a generation yet to come. The emptiness of the room almost works with the dark 80s-futuristic electro. WRM make the best of it though they could do with more to vibe off. That’s the problem with being too cool, it’s hard to get your audience to trust you enough to let loose. |
|
|
