There’s an old rock ’n’ roll cliché about working bands giving their all—whether they’re playing to 20,000 people in a stadium or 20 people in a bar. In the case of The DSM IV, we can personally vouch for the latter. The turnout may have been painfully low, but frontman Guy McKnight (still best known for his wild-eyed days in The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster) performed like his life depended on it, acting out each surreal lyric like a possessed street preacher, spending nearly as much time in the crowd as onstage.
More understated but no less vital, guitarist Jade Ormesher fired off slashing, choppy riffs that gave the songs their jagged backbone. Alongside her, Pav Cummins crafted a curtain of beats, synths, and strange textures that elevated the sound into something at once darker and danceable.
Hailing from Liverpool (“But we’re better than the Beatles,” quipped McKnight), The DSM IV land somewhere between The White Stripes and Pet Shop Boys. It’s an odd mix on paper, but in practice it works: the garage rock grit of the former fused with the dancefloor urgency of the latter. Raw and theatrical, pulsing with electronic menace.
A great discovery for yours truly, and, judging by the grins and nodding heads, for most of the small audience. No doubt that next time around, The DSM IV will be playing to a much bigger crowd and still be tearing it up like it’s their last show on Earth.
