Iggles, piggles and giggles ping around the room as Star Light Magic Hour take to the stage. Something isn’t where someone left it. Someone else is darting across the room looking for it. The pre-gig confusion and evident disorganisation is visible, and it would be strange if it felt everything was just going perfectly to plan wouldn’t it?
They’re a funny looking bunch. To the right of the stage, there is some Pete/Carl bro-mantic mic sharing going on, to the left there is a controversially, ballsy haircut in form of an 80’s mullet. And for no apparent reason, the singer just seems angry. The six-piece make use of their numbers, never afraid to layer up the vocals throughout. There is a heavy Fat White Family taste to their music. Their unpredictability makes them an interesting watch. In your face from a distance.
‘Who’s sexy?’, announces a very peculiar woman. The trophy of her deeming members of the crowd sexy enough appears to be a zine, brandishing a photo of our gap-toothed hero, Saul Adamczewski. This strange encounter less strange, more thought-provoking encounter with a poet dressed as a reverend, who announces Insecure Men as Satan’s favourite pop-group.
‘I am Saul Adamczewski and I am an insecure man’, announces Saul, leading his 8-piece onto the stage. It is quite amazing how they all manage to fit. They have exactly nothing to be insecure about; they all look immaculate, and perfectly colour coordinated. Two songs in and cans of Guinness begin flying around. As the cans fizz open, there it appears there isn’t one person who has noticed that the drummer just opened a bottle with a drum stick? Is there anything this band cannot do?
The sold out Pink Room wobbles like a big strawberry jelly in unison to 'I Don’t Wanna Dance With My Baby', to Saul’s evident delight, as an ear to ear grin cracks across his face. 'The Saddest Man In Peng' has a circumstantial impro-line of ‘get off the fucking stage’, as a photographer attempts to take up a closer position. Someone is getting a bit too rowdy following this, making it very clear that he does know the lyrics. He’s currently singing them louder than Saul himself. Only for this individual to get the lyrics wrong when given the microphone.
Whitney Houston and I brings the harmonies shared by Saul and Ben, before Mekong Glitter is shredded to pieces, with Saul deepthroating the microphone. Satan is hailed once again, before a subtle reminder of the profits of all sales of the band merch, in form of football scarves, go towards the football lad’s association. The greatest of causes.
How an 8-piece can perform so tight with one another is baffling, and as a result Insecure Men are a pleasure to watch. A calm enough, enjoyable gig on a cold November night in Manchester. What more could one ask for?