Funband Bring Confetti, Chaos & Creativity to Plymouth’s Live Music Scene

Our community reporter Joshua Edwards has seen it all when it comes to Plymouth’s live music scene — but even he admits that Funband defies description. Known for their masked theatrics, confetti-spewing antics and magnetic musicianship, Funband are rewriting the rules of what a gig can be.

In this witty and joyful review, Joshua recounts his first full Funband experience at Leadworks, unpacking the humour, chaos and artistry that have quickly made them one of Plymouth’s most talked-about live acts.

It will come as no surprise to anyone that has read my previous articles for Plymouth Culture that I consider myself a fan of music. I can regale you with anecdotes about my personal relationships with works by artists as diverse as Hank Williams, Prolapse, Hot Chocolate and Tom Vek. I can recount, with the passion of a scholar, meticulously researched tales of the doomed final gigs of the Stooges, and direct you to the recordings you can listen to where Iggy antagonises the crowd so intensely that the sound of hurled bottles breaking on stage can be heard. 

I mention this not to be boastful, but to give you some idea of my credentials; I think my love for music and the variety of music I love has put me in good stead to write these pieces. I have a wide frame of reference to draw from, so to hear a band that I can’t quite describe is an exciting prospect. 

 With that said: Funband. 

There has been a rumbling about Funband for a while. I’ve heard tell of them, seen footage, grabbed flyers. Hell, I met the band briefly when they were in utero at last years We Are Here festival and was instantly intrigued by their dynamic and that name. 

I’ve known one of their members for twenty odd years. I’ll mention no names, because I respect the traditions of Lucha Libre and am aware that unmasking someone publicly is a faux pas, but I know that he (or she. Or they.) is an artist and creative force so unique and strange that the prospect of them turning their hand to music should have anyone chomping at the bit. And this is before we even consider that there are five band members in total.  

So, when El Generico needed to book another act to accompany us at Leadworks in July, I sent Funband a message. We’d play alongside a cool band and I’d finally get to see said cool band after months of “just missed them” or “they played last week, didn’t you hear?” Absolute result, no downside. Win motherflippin’ win. 

The crowd they drew was incredible, a swathe of interesting looking people who brought with them a cool party vibe. Artists, poets, musicians, real cool cats. It put me in mind of stories I’ve read about Studio 54 and CBGBs in the 70s, or the art scene in post-war Berlin, but without the threat and pretense that pervades stories of those hallowed places (See? References.) They were super receptive to our set and we felt lucky to have them. 

Then Funband delivered on the promise I’d built in my head. The lead singer came out sporting their giant felt mask akin to those Avenue Q puppets, immediately vomited colourful strings of confetti onstage and proceeded to amble amongst the crowd pulling trinkets from its gaping maw to gift them with; car boot treasures, fuzzy little insects, those little brown-gold plastic busts of characters from the Phantom Menace that were sold full of sweets when it was released. Or given away free with cereal, I forget.  

Vocally in the wheelhouse of Art Brut and Modest Mouse, they led the attended in call and response sing alongs and queued them up for perfectly synchronised rhythmic single claps, this made all the more impressive by the fact Funband do not have any recorded material available. They threw flyers into the crowd that asked “Is your dad a weirdo?” (see accompanying photo). It was showmanship, for sure, but not in the way your used to. Charismatic, sure, but also kind of anti-charisma. Incredibly joyous and warming, but also quite odd. Faye, like a woodland creature in a fairy tale.  

This display would have been enough to write home about, but Funband don’t rely solely on the gimmick. The musicianship is incredible, each member so in tune with each other that every song seemed flawless. Far from this proving sterile and robotic, the members of the band spent the whole show sharing onstage in-jokes with glances and playful improvisations. All of them ridiculously talented and achingly cool, but earnestly happy to be performing. My guitarist told me he saw them performing a pre-gig ritual that involved affirmations, a huddle and some chanting.  

The music itself, as previously alluded to, I struggled to contextualise. The songs were all hits, pulling you in with hooks galore, but theirs are not songs that are likely to appear on That’s What I Call Music anytime. Math rock-esque, like early Foals, but that doesn’t quite hit it. There’s a little of art punk like Talking Heads and Devo, for sure, and the off kilter alterna-indy of Cardiacs and Pavement, but again it’s not quite right. They threw in a bespoke cover of Paranoid in honour of the recently departed Ozzy to further confuse things.  

I’m used to people comparing bands to other bands to give you an idea of what they sound like, and I believe all the examples I’ve used here are helpful. However, comparing Funband to anyone else seems derivative. I hope you won’t see it as a cop out to say you really should just go and see them. Funband are, at the risk of sounding too saccharine and cliché, my new favourite band and I am confident they will be yours too. 

You can see Funband’s second annual Halloween Hangover show at Café Momus on Saturday November the 1st, alongside Scare Bears, Snatch Gods and Lou, with costumes strongly encouraged for attendees.