MC Lars / Wheatus / Army of Freshmen / Punchline

If the gig tonight did nothing else, it reminded me how great it was to be sixteen. US punk pop may be devoid of meaning and substance, but it's a hell of a lot of fun, and when it's done properly, nu-rave can't hold a candle to the exuberance and sheer, unadulterated joy that it can bring out of the fans.

	"the floor in Academy two was noticeably moving under the feet of the young and the fearless of Newcastle."

Opening act Punchline could really be Blink 182 in disguise, and I mean Blink 182 when they were fun and stupid, before they got waylaid trying to find some kind of message in their music. Cramming their set with as many three minute pop gems as they could cram in, including superb stand out track 'The Hit'. This lot may have missed the boat by about ten years, butthey brought a smile to the Academy, and ensured that everyone else tonight had a slightly easier job.

Unfortunately, if I were simply to say that Army of Freshmen were bloody brilliant, my editor would send this review back to me with a snotty note attached telling me to write more, but it's true. Again, dumb, bouncy, pop punk. But oh so good. It was during their set that I realised that putting this gig on upstairs may have been a mistake, as the floor in Academy two was noticeably moving under the feet of the young and the fearless of Newcastle. Frontman Chris is a master at controlling the swaying, swelling crowd, and this is a band that has turned three minute pop-punk into an art form, and the crowd lapped up tracks from their new album 'Under The Radar', including the chugging, riff driven 'Juliet', and the big-chorussed 'At The End Of The Day'. If this album doesn't secure them radio play on this side of the Atlantic, there is something seriously wrong.

Wheatus are a strange band. To the vast, vast majority of people, they are one (or maybe two, if stretching a point) hit wonders of the highest order, but they have a notable hardcore of devoted fans for whom they cannot put a foot wrong. The crowd tonight is split pretty evenly between the two groups, and the differences in enjoyment levels between the two groups are clear for all to see. Given that they have been on the scene for around eight years now, it is disarming to witness just how haphazard they are on stage. At times their amateurish nature is charming, but for much if this set it is highly irritating, and I just want them to get on with it. As well as 'Teenage Dirtbag' and 'A Little Respect', the hardcore were treated to a set of album tracks and obscurities which they lapped up whilst the rest of us looked on bored.

Up last was the magnificently uncool MC Lars, with backing band duties provided by Wheatus and a quite beaten up Powerbook. As expected, a fair proportion of the crowd left in the intermission, and that was a huge mistake on their part. Anyone who didn't know what Lars was about may have been taken aback by his irreverent brand of 'post-punk laptop rap', but those that had stayed behind were treated to the closest to a hits set that MC Lars can could muster.

Opening with 'Space Game', Lars was on fire. He may be rapping about Darth Maul and "sith chicks" but he he has the lyrical talent and the verbal dexterity to carry it off without crossing the line and becoming crass. 'Roommate From Hell' (about sharing a dorm room with Satan) and 'Download This Song' (self explanatory really) get the biggest cheers of the night, along with the Edgar Allan Poe inspired 'Mr Raven', for which Lars was joined by Chris from Army of Freshmen for added vocal kick. New tracks 'Hipster Girl' and 'White Kids Aren't Hyphy' are the logical successors to 'Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock', and proved that Lars' relentless attack on scene culture isn't about to let up anytime soon.

MC Lars creates music that you will either love or hate, and once you have picked your side, you will not be moved. What can't be denied, however, is that live he has the power to hold a crowd, and guarantee a superb show which only the chronically joyless could walk away from without a smile on their face.

FUTURE GIGS

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