Like Jerzy Balowski, Only Pleasant.

So, it is a tad late, and we're typing this with one hand (the other is on Cutesome), But we must write the review. And it must be untraceable like Pablo's fifties.

We went to go see Landlord at the request of an oblivious associate from dayjobland, who serves as their manager. So as to minimise the paper trail we shall let the venue remain unnamed.

Which is a pity, because the ancillary details that attach themselves to this night of nerd rock are rather illuminating. Particularly DJ Mojo.. But fitting, because Landlor'd's music is oddly without context.

Not that they're without references, resembling nothing so much as a potent fusion of of Midnight Oil and the Cure. We wouldn't settle for the references if it was up to us, but they pull it off well, and the slightly-sublimated Clash-worship comes out now and then, and is pretty prevalent once they get warmed up.

Yes, the singer does channel Robert Smith too much, yes, they do dress like NYU sophomores, yes they do want to think about swearing at the audience more, and yes, their songs do all sound like the urgent plaintive second to last song on the album.

But those songs are the good songs, and they are just about passionate enough to pull them off. they certainly benefited from the attentions of the venue's sound man. The band that followed, a shambolic art rock skronkfiesta, was much more our cup of tea, but wasn't executed with much warmth. and landlord, well they've got that, and they're au courant enough to make it danceable.