The KVB by George Katsanakis
Being regarded, either by themselves or by the music press, as an ‘audio-visual musical duo’ means that to fully comprehend The KVB one has to experience them live.
It’s not the only reason to attend one of their shows (describing them as ‘gigs’ is probably doing them a disservice) – the main is that they are very, very good.
Musically it’s an eclectic set which, understandably, focuses on last year’s fine sixth album, Unity. The twinkling, scene setting Sunrise Over Concrete opens both album and set, blinking the gig into life akin to drawing a huge breath before stuttering into the driving motorik pop of World On Fire, as both Nicholas Wood and Kat Day harmonise as expertly as an act with ten years’ experience should.
The 808 State/Madchester electro stomp of Blind reverberates around the venue, while sky-splitting guitar breaks the gathering cloud of a song that is Unbound.
Yet, without researching, it would be difficult to identify the newer material from the old, so seamlessly does it all slot together. The now decade-old Always Then, from the debut album of the same name, still sounds as fresh as a daisy, the sprinkle of circus organ still garnering a feeling of dread.
Meanwhile, the hypnotic glimmer trip of White Walls and the brooding Awake (both from 2016’s Of Desire) carry a similar disconsolate vibe, the latter with uttered vocals and New Order-esque guitars.
With no lack of ambition, The KVB’s sound is hard to pin down, but epic shoegaze guitars alongside thumping bass underpin everything, be it the boisterous glam of Above Us, or the stinging electro garage of Never Enough.
For a two-piece, the volume and intensity is impressively overpowering, and when the pair catch one another’s eyes and smile mischievously as they hit a sweet spot, their mutual affection is readily apparent.
Of course, all of the music is set to video backdrop, which is difficult to summarise but matches the tone and feel of the song; e.g. sparse desolation on Sunrise Over Concrete; trippy visuals for the swirling Unité, etc.
But, frankly, the visual set-up at the venue doesn’t really allow for the messages to be conveyed assertively enough, so they act as an accompaniment but little else. Their visuals and sound deserve a bigger stage, literally and metaphorically.
Indeed, they deserve better from Bristol as a whole. With their label, Invada Records, being Bristol-based, Wood gives them a shout-out which gets a good response, but in truth the crowd is quite muted and small, perhaps a reflection of the gig taking place on a Sunday night.
Although not a hot-bed of guitar music, The KVB’s musical dexterity (an insatiable mix of electronica, psychedelia, post punk and shoegaze) warrants a better turnout from the musical centre of the South West.
If the duo are disappointed or frustrated by the turnout, they channel their anger into closing number Dayzed, an ear-splintering, feedback-heavy noise opus reminiscent of The Jesus & Mary Chain, complete with baritone vocals from Wood.
it’s a viciously memorable sign-off and puts the cap on a well-balanced set from an unassuming duo who leave a monstrous impact.