For one of the hottest musical acts in the UK right now, English Teacher sure do like to keep it low key.
Entering the stage for their Shepherd’s Bush Empire gig last night, the band strolled onto stage so casually that you’d have been forgiven for thinking they were the soundcheck team.
Not for them any mentions of the Mercury Prize they’d won just months before – beating artists like Charli XCX and CMAT to the trophy, and becoming the first from outside the capital to win the prize in nine years. “London!” Lily Fontaine, the band’s lead singer, shouted instead, to applause from the crowd. “Fucking hell.”
Then they hit the accelerator. What followed was a non-stop playthrough of their debut album This Could Be Texas, interspersed here and their with their older work.
There was the frenetic, off-beat Broken Biscuits, whose jittery guitar riffs rose to a jangling mess of sound. There was I’m Not Crying, You’re Crying, in which Fontaine’s voice rose to a percussive wail and which segued swiftly into the first song on their album, Albatross.
As they set out their stall, the crowd – packed elbow to elbow – clapped appreciatively. It’s hard to dance to English Teacher’s music; the jangling, off-beat verses and semi spoken-word delivery throws off the ability to move with the music somewhat.
But, hey: if the crowd was low-key, the band was too. When she wasn’t switching between the guitar, keyboard and shredding a tambourine in the songs’ choruses, Fontaine ended most of her songs with a polite “Thank you”, which gave the gig the feel of an open-mic night.
Her fellow bandmates chimed in sometimes; her banter with the crowd was charming, if awkward. “Who’s been to space?” she asked at one point – then got flummoxed when somebody from the crowd apparently answered “Yes”.
And why wouldn’t it be? English Teacher have only been going since 2020; the “deep cuts” announced by Fontaine – such as their first hit EP, R&B, only date back to 2021.
Their newness on the scene gave the whole night a slightly unpolished feeling – interspersed here and there with moments of spine-tingling brilliance. After being doused with art-punk for an hour, a rendition of You Blister My Paint, performed against a sparse piano ballad, let Fontaine’s voice soar into the auditorium and brought the crowd to a hushed standstill.
That was quickly forgotten as soon as they brought out their biggest hits – Nearly Daffodils, Albert Road and The World’s Biggest Paving Slab – but the spell had already been cast. And that was before they brought out the giant papier-mâché head (was this a reference to Frank Sidebottom, the character who inspired their first band name of Frank?) which Fontaine donned for the final song.
“See you on the next album cycle,” she quipped on the way out. My advice would be to catch them on this one, because they won’t be playing venues this small again.
Touring. More information at englishteacherband.com/tour
