The crowd, the venue. On entering Madame Jo’s Jo’s, best known as the West End home of exotic drag cabaret, you sense this evening’s performance from Mano de Dios, cheekily named after Diego Maradona’s infamous “Hand of God” incident in the 1986 World Cup, will be no ordinary gig by just another young band carving out a name for themselves. In order to get to the bar , you first have to elbow out of the way a clutch of well-known television actors. And isn’t that a James Bond girl hiding beneath her hat on the plush velvet chaise?
For a while now, Mano de Dios, and in particular good-looking lead singer Jackson Scott, have been more familiar to readers of celebrity magazines than the serious music press. This evening, at a party which is ostensibly to launch new single “Why do we do it?”/”Blue Eyes”, the band immediately set about rectifying this situation. From the sultry trombone opening to “Blue Eyes” played by guitarist Sky Murphy, it’s apparent that Mano de Dios are a lot prettier than their music, which is a dirty blend of flamenco, blues and samba, played with a refreshingly unpackaged punk energy.
But these boys are far too polite and their musicianship too well-honed to offend. Cuban recruit Jimmy Martinez plays a particularly laconic sounding bass, which combines brilliantly with the drums of Brazilian Roberto Ares to produce the relentlessly infectious rhythms which immediately turn this evening into a fiesta. The much-hyped (and sometimes hyper) Scott is a natural frontman.
At times engaging, at times slightly aloof, he could be a very distant relation of a young Mick Jagger as he struts the stage singing compositions that could only have been written by the very young and the very male. My only complaint is that, at times, his vocals are so low down in the mix that it can be difficult to understand exactly what he is singing about. But what is lost in comprehension is more than compensated for by the sheer force of the music. You get the idea that these boys simply will not stop playing until the last audience member is on their feet. And eventually they get their way.
In this day and age, it’s good to know that there are still performers for whom the audience’s enjoyment is paramount.All of a sudden, the crowd parts to make way for a very familiar face – at least in this part of London. Unmistakable in a blue lamé jacket and skin-tight black jeans, topped off with a neat little titfer, it’s former punk model, performance poet and sometime singer Phil Dirtbox who joins the lads on stage to sing “Gangster” – a surprising highlight in an evening of unpredictability. And that’s what I liked most about this evening’s show. Despite being in complete control of the music, Mano de Dios manage to permeate the club with an unmistakable whiff of danger and a feeling that anything could happen. It’s what live music should be about, but all too rarely is.
Mano de Dios support Saint Jude at the Islington O2 Academy on May 25
