Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Broad Street in Birmingham has long been the resting place of those wishing to dance the night away, to fulfil every possible legal desire they wish to bestow upon themselves and perhaps a little more if the chance arises. Just off Broad Street lays The Flapper, a venue of repute and in which perhaps arguably remains a stout defender against what could be seen as the rising tide of apathy all-round the country of smaller independent pubs, bars and clubs losing a reputation in showcasing new talent in favour of the crass commercialism offered in other places, the overwhelming abundance of cover bands that seem to strike at will like a python sizing up its options in the face of a mongoose, and like the Bilston Robin takes pleasure in being able to do so.

The Friday night air had started to turn a familiar slate grey colour, the neon lights beckoned party goers and the affluent up and down the Broad Street strip and from the downstairs basement of The Flapper, something tangible was clearing its throat and whispering gently but with a firm sense of authority that live music, no matter your genre, is still very much king in Birmingham and who better to stamp that authority as if carving a new and important line to the base of the Statue of Liberty, below the tired and huddled masses, give me your live music lovers fed up of being treated as if they have nothing to offer, that Birmingham’s own Capital Sun.

The neon lights may have been calling out to the fancy dressed and show boating fun lovers but for those that made their way to The Flapper, to see a set of songs provided by Glen Boden, Andy Smith, Chris Taylor and Adam Thompson (standing in superbly for Luke Weston) and delivered with Brummie style and a stirring passion, meant that those neon lights, dancing away as if several thousand White Dwarf suns had begun to suddenly die out, were fading out and soon forgotten; at least for a short while.

The group played songs such as The Battle of Rocky Lane, Fit Together, the superbly written Hands Off Time, Times up (After Ordinary) and the excellent Feed The Hand That Bites You with a dedicated composure that would subject the memory to when new bands came out of Birmingham with such speed and a healthy vision that it would make a cheetah with 20-20 eye sight seems lethargic and so short sighted that a gazelle could French kiss it before it realised what was happening.

Capital Sun glowed respectively and with such abundance that those who had made their way to see Liverpool’s Amsterdam support on the night would have gone home with pride in their hearts at the conviction in which the band won over new friends hearts.

Ian D. Hall