Sinkane, Purcell Room, review: An impressively polished set with influences from Kraftwerk to Fingers Inc

David Byrne, this year’s curator of the South Bank’s annual Meltdown festival, describes his programme as ‘quite eclectic’ and this dynamic young singer is the perfect embodiment of that claim. Born in London to Sudanese academics, Sinkane has navigated between his parents’ homeland, Britain and America and makes music that is as pleasingly resistant to categorization as one might expect of such a well-traveled citizen of the world. The African component in the 30 year-old’s songwriting is strong enough to endear him to a Womad crowd but, as is the case with many high achievers of his generation, he has embraced a wide range of genres – pyschedelic rock, soul, dub, experimental pop and avant-garde jazz – to make his work lavishly multi-layered. Most of the arrangements are not 3-minute singalongs.

At any rate Sinkane makes for a sharp contrast to support act Wyles & Simpson. A new synth pop duo with shades of anybody from Kraftwerk to Fingers Inc they deliver a set that is impressively polished. Yet for all of the appeal of some of the melodies, the taut precision of Abigail Wyles’ vocals and the sheen of Holly Simpson’s keyboards and programming the performance is somewhat stilted, first and foremost because the songs miss those vital injections of rhythmic energy or the odd sonic coup de theatre to raise the temperature in the room. Ultimately the poise is a touch too icy.

From the moment Sinkane, a wide brimmed black hat giving him a desperado cool, and five-piece band hit the stage the heat is on though. When he straps on a guitar or hunches over a keyboard while adjusting the mic stand Sinkane is anything but inhibited. There are back catalogue favourites culled from 2008’s Color Voice but the set is drawn mostly from last year’s Mean Love album, and crackles with funky wah wah guitar, snapping percussion and hot brass, which initially muffles the delicate strains of the vocalist’s airy falsetto.

Having said that, robust, propulsive rhythms soon prompt dancing in the gangway and a strong sequence of songs that includes ‘Jeeper Creeper’, ‘New Name’ and ‘Yacha’ also sees lead guitarist Johnny Lam weave lovely counter-melodic spirals around the main themes while Sinkane starts to work his effects pedals to smother choruses in reverb. Thereafter the trickery increases. A free improv fanfare, in which trumpeter Byron Wallen blows up a storm, segues into a roots reggae backbeat, powered by Jay Trammell’s crisp rimshots, that then morphs into a sly quote of Bill Withers’ Ain’t No Sunshine’ as the band really starts to cook. Seamlessly they strike up a heady 7/4 groove and the dancers proceed to gyrate wildly to ‘Young Trouble’, with Sinkane’s voice now clear and strong in the mix. Discreet undercurrents of gnawa trance and slinky disco suffuse the final part of the concert that climaxes with the rousing ‘How We Be.’ Mr Byrne’s party is on the road to nowhere with a pedestrian name.