Live: Elvana — Elvis-fronted Nirvana
By Oscar Talbot
12th February at Ruby Lounge
7.5/10
Forming a cover band used to be so easy. Learn to play the songs of another band, appropriate their particular time-sensitive aesthetic and adopt a name similar enough to create nostalgia while also being possible to Google. (cf. The Smyths, Noasis, The Clone Roses etc.) Then sit and wait for the bookings at pubs, strange venues on a Tuesday or weddings of those too boring to escape sentimentality to roll in. Who wouldn’t want to begin their nuptial bliss to the sound of a coiffured man from Bolton singing ‘your song’ about getting creamed by the 142.
Sadly in these turbulent times this will simply no longer suffice. As Engels wrote from Manchester, the giants of the past ‘direct history from the grave […] causing everything to be re-enacted twice over, once as grand tragedy and the second time as farce.’ Both Elvis and Kurt Cobain defined the sound of a generation before becoming overwhelmed by the evils of deep fried food and being married to Courtney Love* respectively.
Out of these ashes, like the musical equivalent of fusion food, Elvana was birthed. Striking out at the heart of the fundamental purpose of a cover band, verisimilitude, they have attempted to twin the 1950s innuendo of Elvis with songs about abortifacients.
The Nirvana portion was very well done, carrying the band. Crowds of pissed leather-jacketed men tend to react badly to a man in a sequinned jumpsuit, but their ability to crank out songs like ‘Aneurysm’, ‘You Know You’re Right’ and ‘Sliver’ was testament to their overall above average rendition of Cobain’s back-catalogue. Furthermore they managed to avoid simply repeating the litany of over-played hits a less accomplished group would perform.
On the flip-side, the Elvis act felt like a bit of a novelty, mostly staying on the right side of gimmicky by occasionally throwing in a ‘yuh-huh’ in between yelling ‘Rape Me.’ Much like fusion cuisine, Elvana promise the same things that a curry pizza does; two things you like crushed together in a beautiful mess, but you know that one of them will always win out.
During ‘Suspicious Minds’ Elvis came into the crowd and was lifted up so he could experience the sweat stalactites forming on the roof of Ruby Lounge’s cramped ceiling. Standing underneath this man from Stoke-on-Trent pretending to be Elvis pretending to be Kurt Cobain, wedged between his upper thigh and his left buttock the farce became exposed. What would Cobain have thought? Would he approve? Sure, they didn’t play ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, but at what cost?
How would Elvis have viewed these long-haired punks moshing about while a strange man yells about how shit life is? He probably would have liked all the bits about ice cream though. Regardless, Elvana struck a chord with the audience, being similar enough to enjoy but ironic enough to not take too seriously. Maybe this represents a new era of cover bands. Mexrrissey (Mexican Smiths) have already taken Manchester by storm. Why stop there? Personally, I can see a whole sub-genre of hybrid cover-bands. The Velvet Monkeys? ‘Cause every bady knooows you’re a fem’ fetale. Or Märelyhead? Elvana worked, form your own ungodly mess now while the pickings are rich.
*views are writers’ own