"What are Bellatrix like anyway?" enquires a young Geordie gothette as she feverishly clutches her ticket deep in the bowels of Newcastle Arts Centre. A muted and deftly ironic cheer is let off by said girl (and accompanying entourage of eyeliner and feather boa clad friends along with token 'moody' indie boy) as names such as Echobelly, Bjork and The Cardigans are tentatively offered. Smiles are exchanged, goodbyes are said and this little underage indie carnival files into the venue, to the clicking of heels and the rendition of a random Manic Street Preachers lyric.

But Bellatrix ain't The Cardigans. Or Bjork, or even Echobelly for that matter. Bellatrix are Bellatrix, and you can slap anyone who disagrees with a wet fish. And tonight, Bellatrix and Crashland are going to end their tour with a bang (literally - but they don't know that yet).

So first it's the turn of Crashland to entertain.
(below)

Crashland have six sleeves full of tricks; they're punchy, spunky, and a great advert for distortion pedals. Their problem lies in that fact that the continual comparisons to Supergrass and Foo Fighters that follow them everywhere are so numerous and so accurate that the band may be well advised to change their name to Foopergrass. December single Standard Love Affair finds a reasonably good post-grunge riff to play with, but the general set is stock indie-rock pedal pressing, slightly spoiled by the fact that Crashland seem to think they are the best band in the world. Swaggering around the stage and pulling 'come on!' faces like a stage full of Liams, Crashland's time may well come soon, but for now they'll just have to keep on trying.

Of course, the reason people are here is made clear when the wonderful Bellatrix board the stage (right). Four girls and a boy from Iceland, with smiles, tunes and a violin for good measure. The set is impressive; tracks both old and new are happily mixed with less familiar songs from the band's days in Iceland. Latest single The Girl with the Sparkling Eyes is a highlight with its smiley vocals and a chorus to die for, and a rapturous version of past seven inch Jediwannabe which featured the recruitment of a rather bemused man from the crowd to provide backing vocals. There was even time to sing Happy Birthday to drummer Karl (in Icelandic of course). Electric punk pop spice-girl beating folk rewriting smiley sunny delight? Very, very possibly.

And the finale? A hilarious and ear-splitting version of the mullet-rock Europe classic The Final Countdown. As if this wasn't memorable enough on its own, the antics of a member of an certain band (who shall remain nameless) certainly left a lasting impression by standing on top of a speaker and rocking it, causing it to crash-land (ho ho) on the floor, cutting the power to all of the instruments and cueing immediate raising of the lights.

And so Bellatrix' UK tour was finished. Doubtless it will only be a matter of months before they return, safe in the knowledge that most of their rivals are either retired, between albums or just plain pants, and that if anyone can play a brilliant set with the greatest of ease then it's them. And as the crowds file out, moody indie boy can be spotted in the corner, reading a flyer and presumably separated during the gig from his boa-ed friends. And what did he think of tonight's entertainment? He sniffs, puts his hand behind his neck and looks to the floor.

"...They were alright..."

Article and photos: Karl Cremin

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