COLLAPSE

COLLAPSE (Sir Henry’s, Cork)

FOR THE uninitiated, Collapse are a Corkonian ambient-techno-pop-rock-dance ensemble with a girl singer, three lads behind and a natty line in cyberpunk graphics.

They also, it must be said, bear the cross of mild schizophrenia. At times tonight, they got things just so and the ambio-folkey-techno bits sounded as if they could have been emitted by such established meisters of the genre as Ultramarine. At other times, the wiggy, space-out guitar doodlings sounded too sub-Sugarcubes for comfort. It were a gig of two halves, Brian.

Perhaps the best thing about Collapse is their recognition of the fact that your straight up indie gig is a dead duck. They’re accompanied by a smattering of DJs, well-conceived visuals and the various other sundries of club culture.

What they need to do now is write hookier songs. At risk of sounding like a beponytailed A&R man, I didn’t hear a single. That said, the curious lilts and rolls of their melodic material are tasty enough and if they can cook up one Big Number that can be fleadhed to heaven and back, the sky may yet be the limit.

Collapse are about to embark on a nationwide tourette, their multimedia package in tow. They deserve to do well.

• Kevin Barry