Pipes @ The Macbeth, London

No strangers to the stage, bananas are a fruit perhaps most notable of late for appearing under the weight of Katy Perry’s ego at the MTV Awards. But for tonight, the humble yellow oblong makes its appearance for practical rather than fantastical reasons. As promised, Pipes drummer Chris has brought his banana to the stage with him, hoping someone will make a curious literary connection, rather than sussing out it’s actually his tea.

It’s a mask of pretention that most East London-based bands will get tarred with early on, and one that fortunately slips quickly with Pipes. Luke is a curiously comfortable frontman, a giant who lurches with the music of his bass rather than fighting against it as though it were charging him full of volts.

The frenzied outing of hooks for ‘Juried Art Show’ gives their tunes sticking power, as well as a heady mix of guitar distortion and 80s Matchbox B-Line styled-bile. Whereas ‘How I Killed Your Mother’ tears at our sensibilities latterly, with seemingly more than its three-pronged component, to attack the ears and induce angular leg spasms.

Tom’s guitar pedal hints at Gang of Four, while the vocal underneath pokes at something more sinister as they launch into the sharply punctuated (and exceptionally well named) ‘David Icke’s Childhood Kite’. Luke’s abrupt vocal comes off as half Lydon, half Talking Heads, but with a huge weight of guitar to bury it in a slew of angry fun.

In a short set packed tight with attention to the detail of building melodic puzzles as well as lingual interest, Pipes certainly left more than a fruit-related conundrum for The Macbeth to mull over.