Review | EMF at The Wedgewood Rooms, Southsea: "Their cheeky sense of fun remains intact"

​​"I never get tired of playing that" says EMF's guitarist and main songwriter Ian Dench as the final notes of their indelible hit Unbelievable fade away.

Realising some may take this for sarcasm, he quickly follows it with: "No, really – how could you get tired of playing something which makes people so happy?"

And he's not wrong – the room is packed with people sporting gurning great big grins on their faces, wishing their knees would still let them dance like they did in 1991.

The band appeared at a time when the splicing of indie guitars with dance beats was hailed as the future. Things didn't quite turn out that way, but it did give us some great tunes.

Still sporting three-fifths of their original lineup, the band originally and thfrom the Forest of Dean has had Stevey Marsh from Portsmouth on bass for the part decade or so. As such, frontman James Atkin has decided that this is a "hometown gig", and they certainly put in an enthusiastic performance.

While they have a new album to peddle – they know what their audience wants.

They kick things off with Children and Long Summer Days – the opening brace from their debut album Schubert Dip, before another of its key tracks, Lies.

With everyone nicely warmed up they dive into the new album, The Beauty and The Chaos, with Read The Room. And in all fairness, the band haven’t radically overhauled their signature sound. The new material does, however, occasionally necessitate Atkin having to read the lyrics off a sheet of paper – particularly during the nostalgic hymn to raving, Reach For The Lasers, when he reels off a list of dance acts and DJs.

It’s also nice to hear their second album Stigma well represented with a thumping Getting Through and They’re Here. There’s nothing from 1995’s Cha Cha Cha and just Sister Sandinista from the “27 years in the making” Go Go Sapiens album from 2022.

They do, though, rework their top three charting cover of Neil Diamond’s I’m a Believer (originally with Vic and Bob, no less). Teasing us with the perky keyboard motif, before slowing things down to a dirge-like verse and explosion for the chorus. It works well.

For the encores they crack out a cover of Depeche Mode’s Just Can’t Get Enough and their signature song, EMF, which makes it very clear that their name was never “Epsom Mad Funkers”.

Their cheeky sense of fun remains intact, and while they may be no denying that they are becoming “old men in baggy shorts and beanie hats” as one friend dismissively put it, I’d much rather spend an hour in their company than with many self-serious post-punk acts.