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Unlikely musical magician … LA Priest.
Unlikely musical magician … LA Priest. Photograph: Emma Swann
Unlikely musical magician … LA Priest. Photograph: Emma Swann

LA Priest review – madcap electro from the synthpop surrealist

This article is more than 8 years old

Headrow House, Leeds
Arriving dressed for bed, Late of the Pier’s former frontman creates a mood of merriment with his hazy, subtly funky sounds

Samuel Eastgate, AKA Sam Dust, once fronted Late of the Pier, who played a madcap musical cross between the Human League and children’s TV themes while a keyboard player, sprayed silver, performed ballet twirls. Five years after their demise, Eastgate is now solo as LA Priest but hasn’t quite abandoned his old group’s eccentric, DIY charm.

Moments before he takes the stage, a bloke hurries on to have a last-minute fiddle with the lighting. Eastgate ambles on stage by walking through the crowd, wearing a loose-fitting satin number that could double as his pyjamas. He starts singing into a large wooden box with knobs on, flitting between two synthesisers as flash bulbs explode behind him. From such unlikely beginnings, magic is created.

Eastgate released one of the year’s finer electronic albums in June’s Inji, but if anything his hazy, subtly funky and psychedelic electronica sounds even better live. It’s a shapeshifting but consistent sound somewhere between early Metronomy and Guilty Pleasures-type 70s radio hits, but the likes of Oino and Lady’s in Love With the Law are laden with pop hooks. A Good Sign is simply beautiful and haunting. The airy but salacious Occasion even features a Prince-type falsetto breakdown, madcap synth solo and audible giggle.

Electronic music rarely comes as playful, and Eastgate makes an unconventional but compelling performer. He asks the crowd if they are in party mood (they are) before cranking up the sub bass for Night Train, plays guitar in the front rows, and unveils a comical but beautiful series of slow movements not unlike a human swan, dancing.

As the cheering grows louder, there’s a spontaneous, inspired moment when someone asks for a song that he’s already played, at which Eastgate samples the audience’s laughter, feeds it into the wooden box and turns it into a giant groove of chuckles.

At Broadcast, Glasgow, 17 November. Then touring.


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