Review: Genuine talent transports audience to an alternative universe as bands play Washing Machine night at Bury St Edmunds Hunter Club

The 07s, Study of Us, Blue Sunday and Substation play Washing Machine at the Hunter Club, Bury St Edmunds, Friday

It has been a while since I’ve felt like part of a music scene, but thanks to the genuinely talented artists at the twice-sold-out Hunter Club last night, that’s exactly how it felt – and then some.

Opening band The 07s’ original tunes immediately put me in mind of an alternate universe where Scouting for Girls jammed with Elton John in 1973.

The cheeky young frontman reminded me moves-wise of Anthony Kiedis – an apt comparison considering the energetic, keen-eyed cover of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Can’t Stop. He had something in his stage banter which evoked the charismatic – particularly his response of 'Oh, don’t' to a collective 'aww' from the crowd when he announced ‘mum’s favourite song’.

Potentially – with a bit of work on the singing – future stars.

Study of Us, otherwise known as Josh Jenkins, was a one-man tour de force on guitar and keyboards, confessing to 'a full on stitch' during a gig the night before in St Albans. His delivery of seething lyrics on how it would 'all end in fire' was something I did not know I needed.

Blue Sunday had a bit of everything going for them. Highlights included the early-Kings Of Leon-meets-Black Sabbath on the debut belter Dirty Habits.

Another song with a great – almost poetic – lyric was Like Voodoo: "My heart is frozen over and honey, I’ll make sure yours is impaled."

There was also the sensitive and surprisingly Smiths-y love song Vyvyan.

I may be biased about psychedelic funk-rockers Substation as one of my coursemates plays bass for the six-piece.

I had heard their few released tunes before, the best in my view being the ethereally funky Chilli Powder. It went down brilliantly live, with everyone grooving away in time.

Augmented by a sax player at this gig, one song, dead-serious feminist anthem Pussy Power was injected with humour when I was informed before the gig that a vicar was in the crowd.

Released at midnight that evening, new song Beanstalk, on which lead guitarist Jack Stanton was visibly feeling the music, had more twists and turns than the Stelvio Pass.

Another highlight was the rather left-field cover of The Proclaimers’ oldie-but-goldie 500 Miles. My one honest criticism was that singer Indigo Spooner seemed to use too much echo on her microphone for a 200-capacity club.

In the words of promoter Seymour Quigley, who put the show together: "Life doesn’t have to be rubbish, does it?" And there – ladies, gentlemen, musos and misfits – was the proof.

Review by Dylan Barton