Wax-A-Daisy
Soulwax: Belgium's finest export slip up in London. Astoria, London
Friday, February 16
KKK <3 stars out of 5 by the way>

IT'S POSSIBLY the biggest night of their career. Apart from plugging away at the festival circuit, this must be the largest gig Soulwax have headlined, and just to add to the excitement, the place is more stuffed than a Pizza Hut crust. And all this has come about with the minimum of interest from the media, who have so far just vaguely acknowledged that there are some Belgians wearing suits who seem to be doing quite well for themselves. So why, as the touts go to work outside, do Soulwax seem so bored with what they're doing?

It's not that the cheesy/genius gimmicks aren't there. A polished, ecstatically met 'Much against Everyone's Advice' explodes to the sight of the flashing Jedi mike stands (or they could just be their mum's kitchen strip lighting), which can only be applauded. But when frontman Stephen Dewaele (who dances, impressively, like one of Talking Heads with their elbows sewn to their sides) as something that "has been out new single for three years", you can't help feeling they're tired of banging away at it and would rather be writing something new.

Even the usually livewire saucepot guitarist David Dewaele seems muted, only coming to life towards the end to introduce his favourite toy, a very cool, and uber-'80s Casio guitar, for a digitally enhanced version of Prince's 'Poplife'. The freeze-frame dance moves are all well and kitsch, but they just seem to have their minds on other things.

These are not the only worrying aspects of the evening. 'When Logics Die' veers terrifyingly close to 'Nothing Ever Happens' by - oh God, this might be too much - Del A f**king-mitri, while in their more disco moments there's a definite whiff of dead, Amadeus-rocking German plonker Falco. And when Stephen says "motherf**ker" during 'Conversation Intercom' (sic), it's like your geography teacher swearing at you. Hmmm.

But, for all that, when they get into it, and when they can be bothered, they make a noise as big and shiny as the tin foil backdrop. Maybe they need a holiday so that can enjoy themselves again, and bring us the kind of show that gave them the excellent reputation needed to sell out the Astoria in the first place.

EMMA JOHNSTON