Irene reviews Horses of Instruction and some other bands

Irene's takeover if Inuit Panda continues with this little morsel.

A trip to London at Easter found us at an alldayer in the Windmill pub and venue in Brixton, where Frank's APA friend Thom was moonlighting from A Fine Day For Sailing. We can report that his other band, Horses of Instruction, play poppy post-punky music that is very enjoyable. The co-ordinating red guitars were a welcome nod to Tony Hatch's dictum that band members should all wear the same thing "otherwise people will think you're in different bands". I also salute the referencing of William Blake in the band name – it's a much better name than the Tigers of Wrath, which sounds like a hair-metal band (maybe I am thinking of the Tygers of Pan Tang).

We stayed for two other bands, both acoustically inclined (as in, not playing plugged-in stuff). One, possibly called Singing Adams, featured a Zooey Deschanel lookalike who, spookily, even played the ukulele. The other guy, who could have been Y Niwl or maybe Dignan Porch (or maybe someone else entirely), had a very droll onstage demeanour and a set of comedically depressing songs. After a while we toddled off with the intention of paying a late-night visit to the British Museum, but it was closed for Good Friday. Bah.

And now I will write some more, but not in itals because that would make it too hard to read.

My favourite song by Horses of Instruction was the one that mentioned Jean Luc Picard, and not just because it mentioned Jean Luc Picard. Singing Adams I at first thought was the most rubbish thing I had ever seen, but then I moved up closer and away from the crowd noise coming from the event people drinkers at the back. Once I did that I found her music and performance very engaging.

I don't think the third and last act we saw was Y Niwl - Wikipedia describes them as an experimental surf band from Wales, and the guy did not sound surfy or Welsh (or like the kind of person who has a page in Wikipedia).

IN FACT - investigation makes me fairly certain that the woman with the fringe playing the ukulele was in fact Owl and Mouse, while the guy playing on his own was Singing Adams (or Steven from (the?) Singing Adams playing solo. He was funny and depressing at the same time, getting the audience to sing along with songs whose lyrics said things like "Oh my God, this is the most depressing day of my life" or "Clearly my life is over and I can never face my friends again" and suchlike (these are not actual lyrics but were the kind of thing he would come up with). Owl and Mouse were a bit more fey but managed not to head down the road of generic indie nonsense.

An inuit panda production