My first ever gig was at the Octagon. And my third. And my sixth, after which I start to lose
track. It was 1996 and I was a skinny, naive teenager still coming to terms with being allowed out after 10pm. It felt very edgy, very grown up. It didn’t matter that I didn’t really know anything about the female-fronted indie band who were playing (who turned out to be
Echobelly); what mattered was that I was there – accepted into this tribe of beautiful night-
dwelling creatures queuing to venerate the stage. It was one of the best nights of my life.

I love the Octagon. I feel like a little bit of me was born here, a bit of my soul that reawakens
whenever I’m there. It is where I first experienced the curious social behaviour known as ‘moshing’. It’s where I first experimented with crowd surfing. It became my gold-standard of music venues; the bar against which all others would be measured. Big enough that a night there feels like an event, but small enough that each night feels intimate. Quirky enough to have character but enough of a blank-canvas that each artist can make it their own.

I visit the Octagon with a mixture of comforting nostalgia and anticipation for something new.
The same can be said of tonight’s visitors – Scott Bradlees Postmodern Jukebox (PMJ), who blend vintage influences with modern sounds. 

Starting out in 2011 as a group of friends in New York recording cover songs on YouTube, they have gone on to perform over 1,000 live shows on six continents, and have featured over 70 artists in their ever-rotating lineup. Their collaborative approach – more of a collective than a band – keeps both their musical output and live performances fresh and complements their jazz-inspired improvisational ethos.

There’s a wonderful sense of fun pervading the air even before things get underway. As the audience filters in from the bar, I occupy myself by admiring the various headwear on display.
The spirit of the roaring twenties is evident from the hats, beads, bobs, dots, headbands, hats, pocket squares, suspenders, suits, hats, silk gloves, cigarette holders, flapper dresses and yet more hats adorned by the crowd.

It’s a cool crowd, and it’s one of the first things acknowledged by Emcee Rogelio Douglas Jr, whose easy charm and playful humour hold
the evening together. He puts us at ease while taking us on a journey back to a time when live music was the magical heartbeat of community.

The arrival of tap-dancer Demi Remick during opener Bad Romance provides my first
highlight of the evening. Incorporating tap dancing into their acts is a longstanding PMJ tradition and, in my opinion, a stroke of genius. Remick cavorts in and out of proceedings throughout the night, attacking each of her numbers with such glee and unfathomable energy, it’s as though a cartoon character has invaded the stage. She brings a childish whimsy (her best moment, for me, is her Super Mario medley, complete with coin collecting jumps) but make no mistake; this is a creative choreographer and technically superb dancer at the very top of her game. She was immensely entertaining, and I doubt anyone in the audience would disagree!

The highlights keep coming throughout the evening, with each of the 11 strong, multinational ensemble given their chance to shine. Trombonist J.P Floyd was impossibly cool and charismatic, essentially performing a one-man comedy show from his spot in the back corner. Welsh drummer Jack Amblin provided one of the evenings biggest surprises when he ventured out to centre stage to perform an appealingly carefree cover of It’s Not Unusual on the washboard. Guitarist Thor Jansen had the audience enraptured when given the spotlight for a captivating, unaccompanied solo.

Ultimately, though, the night belonged to the three female singers, whose individual styles
provide colour and contrast throughout the evening whilst perfectly complementing one
another.

First up is Sara Niemietz, a classy performer who shows her range throughout the show, comfortable singing smoky jazz numbers and perky doo-wop. She excels when providing the lower register harmonies for the other girls, but is at her best taking the lead on a wonderfully arranged version of Bowie's Heroes. A particular shoutout here to bassist and musical director Adam Kubota who made some excellent choices putting the set together. The use of a military drum beat in the final verse was, for me, absolutely inspired. Niemietz
takes this song from brooding understatement to triumphant euphoria and everything in
between, showing why she’s one of PMJs longest serving and most trusted vocalists.

Next up is the irrepressible Tatum Langley, seemingly coming to us straight from the golden age of Hollywood. Langley is a pure performer with huge stage presence and impeccable comic timing who seems to thoroughly enjoy every moment she is on stage. Her expressive, animated performance complements her sweet but deceptively powerful voice. Langley is at her best singing the more upbeat numbers, and she also works particularly well with Niemietz as a finger-clicking, Charlston-dancing backing duo. Her take on Greenday's Basket Case is delightful, and the moment during closing number All About That Bass when she runs her fingers through her hair only to pull out her extensions was hilarious.

And then there’s Effie Passero. What words can do justice to Effie? I’ll say this. If you are currently reading this and you haven’t heard Effie Passero sing then stop. Stop reading right
now. You are making a bad choice. Go away, find a clip of Effie singing, close your eyes,
listen, and then come back. Honestly, you won’t regret it.

She just has the most remarkable, versatile voice, and it seems to come so effortlessly. Her Hallelujah tonight is absolutely breathtaking
and is met by a spontaneous standing ovation from the audience. She is an unbelievable
talent who I am privileged to have heard sing.

There’s something for everyone with PMJ. I think my kids would enjoy them. And my
parents. For the more studied music appreciator, the technical skill, innovation and artistry involved is off the charts. Yet there is no pretention on display. Really, it’s all about having fun, coming together and being a part of the great tradition of live music.

And we do have fun. By the end the audience are on their feet dancing, clapping, joining in. The band too seem to be enjoying themselves and Douglas Jr. thanks the audience (full house lights on!) for giving them the opportunities to follow their dreams. On the way out, I count seven band members posing for photographs, shaking hands and genially chatting to audience members. It’s a nice touch,
and the two myself and editor Charlotte Sometimes speak to (Passero and Leeds based multi-instrumentalist Andrew Cox) are humble, kind and grateful for their work. 

I come away wanting to be part of the band, which seems a bit unlikely, so I’ll have to settle for going to see them again at the next possible opportunity. And I can't wait.