Piri and Tommy review – infectious, candy-striped pop fun | Music

Midway through their set, Piri and Tommy perform a song called Silver Lining. It features vocalist Sophie “Piri” McBurnie pondering: “How did we get this far?” – which is not an unreasonable question. The duo released their debut single 18 months ago: since then, their career has encompassed TikTok ubiquity, co-signs from Charli XCX and Pink Pantheress – the latter the figurehead of vogue for bedroom pop into which Piri and Tommy neatly fit – and a major-label deal. Tonight’s venue isn’t huge, but it’s sold out, as is every other date on their current tour: that the bar is virtually deserted tells you something about the average age of the audience.

Theirs is a simple formula. McBurnie sings in an unaffected, untutored voice and guitarist Tommy Villiers plays jangly guitar over backing tapes; the melodies are poppy, sun-dappled and candy-striped, while the beats are derived from UK garage and drum and bass – in its live incarnation at least, the breaks on big hit Soft Spot are surprisingly tough. But it’s a formula that works. At the front of the stage, the crowd are word-perfect and vociferous enough to occasionally drown the duo out: “Big night, lost my weed, but the beat goes on,” offers On and On, a song that neatly draws the point when daylight encroaches on to the dancefloor.

Perhaps inevitably, there are moments when it can all feel a little too toothsome for its own good, like being forcibly fed with another current TikTok phenomenon: the #jellydrink made out of milk and melted Haribo. A couple in real life, there’s a certain degree of singing while gazing into each others’ eyes. There’s also a fluffy cover version of Crystal Waters’ 90s house hit Gypsy Woman: a distinct shard of toughness is lost in the shift from Waters’ hard-edged vocal to McBurnie’s soft coo.

They’re on far safer ground with their own material: the melodies are beautifully turned, the choruses infectious. As well as ruminating on their rise, Silver Lining also seems to address their own capacity to be a fleeting phenomenon – “Running out of time, I can still see a silver lining” – which they may yet turn out to be. For now, though, it’s appealingly wonky, homespun fun.

Midway through their set, Piri and Tommy perform a song called Silver Lining. It features vocalist Sophie “Piri” McBurnie pondering: “How did we get this far?” – which is not an unreasonable question. The duo released their debut single 18 months ago: since then, their career has encompassed TikTok ubiquity, co-signs from Charli XCX and Pink Pantheress – the latter the figurehead of vogue for bedroom pop into which Piri and Tommy neatly fit – and a major-label deal. Tonight’s venue isn’t huge, but it’s sold out, as is every other date on their current tour: that the bar is virtually deserted tells you something about the average age of the audience.

Theirs is a simple formula. McBurnie sings in an unaffected, untutored voice and guitarist Tommy Villiers plays jangly guitar over backing tapes; the melodies are poppy, sun-dappled and candy-striped, while the beats are derived from UK garage and drum and bass – in its live incarnation at least, the breaks on big hit Soft Spot are surprisingly tough. But it’s a formula that works. At the front of the stage, the crowd are word-perfect and vociferous enough to occasionally drown the duo out: “Big night, lost my weed, but the beat goes on,” offers On and On, a song that neatly draws the point when daylight encroaches on to the dancefloor.

Perhaps inevitably, there are moments when it can all feel a little too toothsome for its own good, like being forcibly fed with another current TikTok phenomenon: the #jellydrink made out of milk and melted Haribo. A couple in real life, there’s a certain degree of singing while gazing into each others’ eyes. There’s also a fluffy cover version of Crystal Waters’ 90s house hit Gypsy Woman: a distinct shard of toughness is lost in the shift from Waters’ hard-edged vocal to McBurnie’s soft coo.

They’re on far safer ground with their own material: the melodies are beautifully turned, the choruses infectious. As well as ruminating on their rise, Silver Lining also seems to address their own capacity to be a fleeting phenomenon – “Running out of time, I can still see a silver lining” – which they may yet turn out to be. For now, though, it’s appealingly wonky, homespun fun.