Out & About - Canned Pineapple

As I’m leaving a Canned Pineapple gig in East London, I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a friend earlier that day.

What do we really expect when we’re going out to gigs? Are we looking to scream our hearts out and get hyped? Or are we looking for something that we can softly sway to?

Music tends to be shaped by the manner it’s consumed in. As was the case for this band’s headlining set at the Sebright Arms, I noticed the high energy environment they’d cultivated amongst a dedicated fanbase, and I concluded they were committed to getting everyone grooving. Indeed, as I entered the building, I could even feel the thumps beneath my feet of the supporting acts, as the event space was underground (a literal underground scene, perhaps!). It was the kind of excitement where I wished I could’ve brought a couple friends along - to revel in this momentum Canned Pineapple had inspired.

A band with Brighton roots, eclecticism runs through their branding and sound. Their name speaks to this heritage, though the loud, fast, clashing guitars has the timeless braggadocio of a britpop collective. One guitar solo, for example, had a tone reminiscient to Brian May’s style - Which I suppose really ties everything together when you think of the song ‘Brighton Rock’. Their stage presence, particularly with each other, had a comfortable and casual manner á la Miles Kane and Alex Turner in The Last Shadow Puppets. Given they’ve been active since 2022, it’s not unreasonable to assume they know each other well by now. Audiences pick up on these things, and it makes or breaks their experience when they see how you relate to each other. A unit works stronger when they get on, after all.

Their engagement with the crowd was impassioned. I found myself giggling at the rapport they built with teasing threats about going home, or as they boldly stated: ‘we could play all night long!’

This was met with a chorus of cheers, naturally.

Clearly, the crowd was just as engaged back, as I saw people singing along to their biggest hit, ‘Jessie met Jane’, a scuzz tune that called to my British sensibilities for shrilling, messy rock. There was even someone brave enough to sit on someone else’s shoulders, though it was short-lived as the ceiling was far too low. Perhaps even rarer in this day and age, and sorely missed, nobody was on their phones during the set. All around me, people were dancing with each other, or cheering the guys on at the front. Whether this was the average Canned Pineapple fan, or the East London scene being contrarian to mainstream habits, it was hard to tell. But it was appreciated nonetheless.

The audience was not limited to young people, either. A few older people were lingering at the back, enjoying themselves but knowing they were far past the age of high energy.

As this atmosphere suggests, the boys were attentive to the impact of their sound, putting their best foot forward in terms of their skillset, and that just so happens to be the upbeat environment of a set in London. Though I love when music gets contemplative, there’s undeniably something thrilling about letting loose to loud music for the sake of being loud.

Although, if I were to make an observation, I thought they might have real potential in breaking out of this strict boundary, venturing forth into different timbres and textures than the standard indie rock set-up. A name and background such as theirs works particularly well for something experimental, along the likes of what CAN was doing in the 70s.

Nonetheless, a few other recognisable songs of theirs played that night that many people were also singing along to. ‘Ain’t It Strange’ from their EP Big Break, as well as their new single ‘Little Things’ made an appearance. At popular request of the crowd, after a lengthy debate, a song with a lot of ‘yeah’s played also. At the end, they were coerced into an encore, a performance I regrettably had to miss due to catching a train, but am certain was satisfying for everyone there.

These guys are definitely a group to look out for if you’re wanting something high energy, with catchy beats, and the feeling of something big on the horizon. And one thing I strongly suggest is bringing a friend with you that can last an hour or two dancing, to the point of near-mania. Trust me, you’ll need it.