It's Tuesday and Manhattan is caught in a snowstorm. Few want to brave the Lower East Side on a night like this, so the crowd at Razorlight's supposedly sold-out show is disappointing though not disastrous. Combined with the fact that almost all present are ambassadors of curious US record companies, it's no surprise that even the cockiest man in rock is looking apprehensive. Throwing away 'Rip It Up' in a hiccup of nerves and broken guitar strings, it takes at least two more songs for Razorlight to recover. 'Bright Lights' - a recipe of late-'70s NYC Patti Smith and Lou Reed cool - sees Johnny prowling the stage, stalking his own shadow, but it's only with the neurotic energy and scrawling art-punk guitars of 'Which Way Is Out' that they find their fire. The Borrell charm is back for 'Rock N Roll Lies'. "This is about the kind of people who push past on the guestlist. The kind of people I always hated," he cheekily tells this roomful of queue-jumpers who could well hold his future in their hands. For the finale, 'In The City', he elevates himself to Jim Morrison, hanging off a stack of amps, his back to the audience, his face somewhere beneath a fringe-full of hair. It's cool but has nothing on the next night.
In a front room in Brooklyn belonging to a guy called Neil, Johnny and bassist Carl Dalemo are squeezed onto a makeshift stage, guitarist Bjorn Agren is balanced precariously to their right on a crate that doesn't look like it's going to make it through the night and drummer Christian Smith-Pancorvo is on the floor in the middle of the room between a TV and potted plant. About 30 people are crammed into the tiny apartment and for some reason, Johnny is wearing a white silk dressing gown with - allegedly - nothing underneath.
"Take it off!" screams a hysterical girl in the crowd as Razorlight stumble into 'Rip It Up'. But tonight, 'shambolic' means ripped to exhilarating shreds rather than awkward. When 'Dagger Song', a White Stripes pastiche and probably the lowest point on both nights, clears the floor, Johnny responds by chasing the audience into the next room - still playing his guitar. Coaxing them back, he throws off his guitar for 'In The City'. Jumping into the audience for a final time, he hugs and croons into the faces of various bewildered individuals before finishing in a heap, robe still miraculously in place. With the lush acoustic sweetness of next single 'Golden Touch', things are brought to a gentle close and NME is given the chance to reflect on a few things. Like how sometimes the 'wrong' way to do things is really the right way; and whether or not Johnny really was wearing no underpants.
Krissi Murison