Sunless '97 has a lot to do with heat. The UK-based band made up of Ed Eke, Alice Davies and Matthew McGough makes you understand completely that you're indoors, but it will only feel like that for a short period of time. The sunglasses that you might have had on seconds ago can be hung at your collar because, with them still on, everything in here would be pitch-black, aside from the intermittent strobes and flashes, teeth, gold chains or jewelry gleaming through the artificial night.
You're inside, but what you've just moved into is a gathering of people who can't help but get close. There are blasts of air conditioning pumping through the vents and covering all of that square footage, but putting enough moving people into a space and all of the cool can go away in a hurry.
Davies and Eke's hushed and melodic vocal plays are perfect for delivering audible missives, lines cooed into ears, but done so actively, as if the other parts of the body were still in motion and exploring. We feel as if we've been drawn into the dark, powerless to deny the invitation or the contact, that friction and the come-ons. Nothing's feeling at all chilly, just dreaming and hard to believe.
They are moments that eliminate reality, but rather feel like minutes that have been plucked from some futuristic periods of time shaped around desires that are just now working themselves out, as the summer days are winding themselves down.