There is a projector displaying the band's name against the backdrop of the stage. It is from a DVD and it says "PAUSE" in the upper left hand corner. The command is a little misleading, the screen is vibrating like a VCR with a tracking knob that either broke off or has a healthy problem with authority. For the duration of the evening, Deluka will play with their own name and the word "PAUSE" shimmering in the background. It will be the only thing in the room even trying to stand still.
Within seconds, it's clear that this band is bigger than this room. Of course, they're using some packaged synths and looped drums playing off a laptop but 80% of what's happening on stage is live, present and entirely organic. Deluka's frontwoman, a hybrid of Karen O and Emily Haines, has one of the best voices you haven't heard in rock. She is powerful without breaking a sweat, moving without thrashing around and spitting beer. As the tumbling synths of second-song, "Cascade" threaten to keep the evening too clean, the band charges forward with gritty, downtown rock and these powerful, spot-on vocals.
Over the course of a set that includes somewhere between eight and ten songs, the crowd moves forward, and people whisper to each other things like, "Wow, this is great." The only way to describe what's happening on stage is a pastiche of influences: A little of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, a little bit of Metric, a little bit of the Industrial Pop of bands like The Big Pink. When Deluka is doing their best work, they're racing ahead with a clean mix of rock guitars, warehouse sized synth-riffs, and melody that will stick in your head for weeks. So, as Deluka hit their finishing kick, the sound, the volume, the backdrop, it made it seem like the whole room was vibrating. Which, okay, maybe it was.
Listen :: Deluka - "Cascade"