Minnie has welded herself to John’s trouser leg a cuff of shiny black
Minnie has welded herself to John’s trouser leg, a cuff of shiny black fur. But this concert is itself a warm-up for the night-long jamboree that Luke and John have planned for their own friends. They pack up, hampered slightly by the pugs’ unwillingness to let them go. The comments could have been scripted by the musicians themselves: “Engaging” and “refreshing” are heard a lot, and one guest says, “This is a wonderful alternative to the blandness of the commercial culture.” My Polish friend says, “This reminds me of – who do I mean? It’s a name like Charlie Chaplin.” We finally arrive at “Janis Joplin.” An enthusiastic old person says, “They’re a bit like Van Morrison – but I like them better.” One guest, enchanted by the pugs’ reaction, announces her intention of smuggling her own small dog into concerts – “but she’s rather old now, so I think I’ll start with Bach.” I pass round imitation champagne, and we drink a toast to Nizlopi – all but John, who is running a marathon for charity the next day.There is a brisk trade in Nizlopi albums, and then the boys join their new admirers for meat, two veg, and ice cream. This may have something to do with my being unable to stop myself adding, “Carefully.” There is no restraint, however, in the applause that signals everyone’s sincere appreciation of this homespun hip-hop. “I’m Luke, I’m five, and my dad’s Bruce Lee,” Luke begins, “Driving round in his JCB.” Despite the jaunty traffic sounds in the background (Luke and his dad are holding up everyone on the bypass), this is a poignant memory of innocence and a youthful illusion of invulnerability.
When little Luke desperately wishes the vehicle could turn into a Tyrannosaurus Rex and annihilate the school bullies, I sense the empathy in the room.For the last number, Luke urges his listeners to stand and dance They shyly do the first, but no more. Luke describes it as “a love letter written on the back of an envelope”.”We released this song just before Christmas, and it went mental,” says Luke proudly, introducing the next number The students, already fans of the JCB song, grin knowingly. “We asked them before the show to breathe hard, and, as you can see…” The poignant new release, “Girls” (“some days sweet like honey, some days tart like Marmite”), with a backing that recalls a gently flowing stream, gets a warm response. “Your girlfriend leaves you, her sister wants to kill you, and her dad and everything Everybody’s completely miserable But by the end of the song everybody’s singing in harmony. From all of the manure that’s been created by this misery, something will grow.” To support this idea, he wants us to chorus, “It’s the ground that will be replanted upon,” but, when only a few ghost voices pipe up, he doesn’t insist.The pugs are sitting still now, but utterly rapt and hyperventilating “They are playing their part well,” says Luke. I had worried that the closeness might be embarrassing – that guests only a couple of feet from Luke and John might feel constrained to wear looks of rapt appreciation, but these seem to be occurring naturally.
My own favourite is “Love Rage On”, a bouncy number with a Latin sound and exuberant lyrics (“It’s so original! Not in your pigeonhole!”)By the time we get to the fourth of their 10 numbers, everyone is deeply into Nizlopi, even if the predominantly English reserve gets in the way of participation “This is a leaving song,” Luke explains. Luke’s lyrics – sometimes drowned by the music on the record – are perfectly clear and give the listeners much to chew on. John also provides percussion with the beatbox technique, making robust, resonant noises by inflating his cheeks and pushing his lips in and out. Luke, working hard, downs bottle after bottle of water.The home concert is turning out to be much more enjoyable than I had dared hope. When Luke sings, “Love bites just like a mad Alsatian”, Catherine produces the voice of a displeased cat. John, though slapping and cuffing Catherine a bit, is a more serene presence, drawing from her a complex pattern of yearning sounds that weave around the vocal.