And what if I've seen Moose Blood in two different towns in the space of a week and what if both times were magical in their own different way.

Both nights, I managed to miss out on the Australians of Luca Brasi, but in London, at least, I've seen Brits Boston Manor and the Americans from Turnover. I'd only ever seen Boston Manor do an acoustic show (back in January when they supported Ryan Scott Graham's acoustic project Speak Low If You Speak Love) and never as a full band, and I very much loved it. They are energetic and enthusiastic, but the sensibility and emotion they had showed acoustically is there, still present, still touching. I think Boston Manor will become, in time, sooner rather than later, one of these bands who will start bringing something to the table. I don't exactly know how to explain. But they matter already, and they will carry on mattering.

And Turnover. Oh Jesus, Turnover. They made a little bit of a controversy recently ("George Washington didn't give up on the revolutionary war" and all that), but as soon as they belt out their first song, Cutting My Fingers Off, it's forgotten and I am sold, instantly, in the blink of an eye, in a note and two thousand people singing along as one. They briskly added themselves to the pile of bands I wish I'd properly listened to before seeing them, just so I could join in and not be just amazed. I wanted to be active, not just a spectator. And that, my friends, is one of the best feelings a band can ever give you when playing live.

And then Moose Blood.
Two gigs couldn't have been more different.
In Paris, they were playing at the tiny Pop Up du Label, a basement venue near Gare de Lyon. It's small, it's a wonder how we can all fit in there, there are people near the door because it is sold out and there are so many of us in such a tiny room. The stage is merely a step, just a foot above the ground, and it feels like the English are playing among the crowd tonight.
In London, they are gracing Koko with their presence. The venue and its big disco ball, the room which will host Club NME when the band is done and the fans have gone is doused in purpley-pinky lights and can contain over a thousand people. I am on the side and I am comfortable, there is no one pushing me about - I am far awar from the moshpits. It's less hectic, less erratic.





And yet, both times, it's absolute magic.
Moose Blood have risen so quickly since the release of their first album, it's not just rising, it's sky rocketing. They're soaring and in the UK, they are now just a little bit too big to be playing tiny venues.
But in mainland Europe, it's a different story. The basements are sold out, but they're still basements next door to your local grocery store. Of course they're rising there too. But at a different pace. It's mainland Europe, after all. Always a tad bit late.


Whether it is a basement or a big room, it's magic.
These two gigs and how different they are perfectly showcase what Moose Blood can do with a bunch of instruments and two albums worth of perfectly crafted emo-pop songs. They can make them sound intimate (just like the perfect Cherry, about frontman Eddy Brewerton's daughter and, in London, dedicated to his wife, lovingly watching from the upper balcony) or they can make them sound like they're the soundtrack to your life and you're on a road trip, singing along with your best friend (which is, coincidentally, what happened in Paris when they played Swim Down). They can make you feel anything. They always bring the biggest smile on my face - their gigs are always of the kind where I leave with my jaw aching because of all the smiling. They have that ability of making me the happiest human on Earth, and, you know, the other day, we were talking about them, and even when the lyrics are sad (Spring, anyone?), they manage to turn the songs into something uplifting and beautiful and, in the end, quite happy.
And that's a beautiful power to have.



The evening, despite being held in a venue that can hold two thousand people, feels intimate from start to finish. In the end, there's not a big difference between seeing Moose Blood in a gigantic building or in your local sweaty basement - apart from the number of people who get to be touched by their magic.