TTSSFU @ The Moth Club, London (Live Review) Featured
- Written by Captain Stavros
TTSSFU
The Moth Club
Words & Pics by Captain Stavros
It was the night of The Great Escape (Festival’s First 50) but over at Musos’, we were planning to break in. After an exchange of tenuous communiques between promo and label teams, it was still quite uncertain if we’d find our way into the gig; you never wanna be without a chair when the music stops. As we queued up, we noticed The Moth was absolutely heaving and quite a few humanoids were still sluggishly shuffling forward like a dessert into an already bursting gut. By this point, many had adopted a rather cavalier attitude when announcing they were on the list. Most, if not all, were turned away which did not bode well for yours truly. When it was finally our turn, announcing ourselves before the gatekeeper as NAME REDACTED, predictably our fate followed the trend; ‘not on the list’. As a last-ditch effort, and ashamedly in the meekest of voices, we uttered, ‘try under Captain Stavros?’ Still not on the list, but this moniker caught the attention of one statuesque blonde parked a few feet away, en route to snagging a margarita pizza across the street. ‘He’s with us’. Enter one Xenia ‘The G’ Owens of Partisan Records, formally of Brace Yourself Press and friend of the blog. Her supernatural hearing, and timing, whilst interjecting herself into a supremely chaotic situation, is the stuff of legends That Totally Saved Shit From Undoing. After a few pleasantries (mainly groveling), we negotiated our way cautiously through a packed house to the front of the stage to behold Manchester’s proud daughter and sons, TTSSFU.
The set opens up with ‘Strange and Careless’, a possible euphemism to describe the spectacle before us and their performance largely as a whole. Not a criticism, friends. It takes a lot to blend into the Moth’s crinkled tinsel strewn backdrop with giant sparkle encrusted lettering, but Tasmin’s heart-shaped candy apple red sparkling guitar does a fantastic job of doing so. The trio of energetic bandmates, plucking bass strings, hammering percussion and squelching high frets, with Murphy shoving his guitar into the amp conjuring ghoulish feedback, is juxtapositioned with languid strumming and warm vocals that seem to shrug off the surrounding distractions with a natural nonchalance. This really stuck with us throughout the gig.
Arguably, Britain’s music scene is one of the most saturated in the world with pure untapped talent, and one of the hardest to break into. To wiggle your way up, even if extremely talented, is no small feat. Getting representation and signed to a label (the likes of which PJ Harvey, Idles and Cigarettes After Sex grace) makes it almost forgivable if the band in question might have a slightly inflated ego after traversing this musical gauntlet. One normally has to wade through performances patiently as an insufferable cavalcade of speeches and antics clomp by, all just so you can hear your favourite tracks performed live. Not so with TTSSFU, they used their newfound platform to embrace and infect the audience with an unfiltered, ego-deficient performance. And perform they did, in weird and wonderful ways. Fuzzy, wobbly sounds in drop-D tuning and static fuzz remind us of cassettes recorded over far too many times with the same flair of watching Johnny Cash’s psychobilly Cadillac roll on by. With endearing and peculiar charm, Tasmin makes known, “this next one’s a classic” as they ease into ‘California’, released a few years back as a single.
‘I Hope You Die’ is the penultimate track, of an entertaining set, largely made up of yelling non-lexicals. Before us unfolds a confusing scene, a mystic conjunction of precariously placed drinks laying spilt over electrical components that stubbornly refuse to quit. This, coupled with what we thought was a stadium crowd sampled and laid over the track instead turns out to be an un-hinged audience losing their collective shit over this song that resonates with them so profoundly. The set rounds off with ‘Remember’, where Tasmin thoughtfully introduces Paddy Murphy (lead guitar), Matt Deakin (percussion) and Reuban Haycocks (Bass), each of whom shone in their own merit. The track, and set, both culminate in Tasmin asking the audience to, “Look after your friends”, before launching herself into the audience shrieking at the top of her lungs. An infamous ending to be sure. TTSSFU is finishing up touring with English Teacher and coming back strong in 2025 with a host of new music and tour dates. You might, at this juncture, be asking yourself, what’s the draw? I guess it is an intrinsic dichotomy boiled into a band of wild wallflowers meet subtle exhibitionism. Tasmin and company tick a lot like a Swiss watch but more diabolical, if you know what we mean.