Cosby Stage, Friday 4th September, 6.30pm

Like the embers of sunset caressing an empty parking lot at the end of the summer, Richmond Fontaine are evocative of those fleeting moments where everything seems just right, but tinged with sadness because you know it's going to end.

One of the leading lights of the alt-country scene for most of this decade, Richmond Fontaine have never managed to break through to mainstream success like some of their peers, such as Wilco. But on the strength of songs like these, it's difficult to see how long that situation will continue. Inhabiting a world of trailer parks, dive bars, and endless highways, where love always ends in pain, and happiness is hard to find.



This is sad and reflective music, but fuelling the engine room is the righteous anger of punk rock. A lot of alt-country can be overly reverential, almost to the point of being sterile, but Richmond Fontaine never fall into this trap, allowing a coiled tension to spring forth, earth-shaking bass bursting through the chiming guitars and shimmering piano.



However, a problem quickly becomes apparent every time the band finishes a song. Having transported you to their world, and having wrapped it tightly around you, when they stop, you find yourself looking at five very ordinary looking men, who apparently have nothing much to say, and no way of saying it. The performance is oddly dislocated -utterly captivating one moment, embarrassingly ordinary between the gaps.



But then again, when you've got songs this good, perhaps it's best to take a back seat and let the songs do the talking?



Describe in a tweet: Chiming Americana that hits you where it hurts.

Good Vibrations: The bass is monstrous, providing an anchor to prevent this from lapsing into creaky old country music.

Life's a beach: The guitar player is fond of gurning and pulling guitar faces, which is quite unpleasant to look at, to be perfectly honest.

EP rating: 7/10