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The Independent Culture
Watching Leicester's Prolapse at work is disorientating, almost like watching three bands rolled into one. The guitarists, bassist and drummer plug away like backroom boys, lurching hangover-like through a distinctly English indie racket. But at centre-stage stand Linda Steelyard and Mick Derrick, vocal sparring partners whose rantings are pure love/hate soap opera, monopolising the attention. And then there's the totally unpredictable part to Prolapse - when you duck as petite hollerer Linda decides to throw oranges, or just stare on bewilderedly as mad, bad Mick smashes to pieces, mid-song, a television set/pram/innocuous piece of furniture which has come his way.

It's Linda and Mick's comically sweet 'n' sour relationship, however, played out to the backdrop of purposely grey, shambolic riffs, which makes Prolapse a cross between early Eighties Fall and an Alan Bennett play. 'How we are onstage is a real reflection of what we're like,' admits Linda. 'People often ask if we are going out together. We were, but not nowadays. It's just a really good way of getting pent-up feelings out of your system.'

Their last London show involved fans painting record sleeves for the vinyl covers of debut album, Endless Walks To Dismal Places (Cherry Red), a title that pretty well sums up the Prolapse-style melancholic Brit wit. But every gig is a marvel: flummoxing, different. Expect the unexpected.

Prolapse plays The Garage, 20 Oct, 20/22 Highbury Corner, N8 (071-607 1818) Highbury & Islington, pounds 5 adv.

(Photograph omitted)