Ah culture! To coincide with the ‘Art of the 60s’ exhibition, the Tate Britain host a short gig (over by 8.30: how civilized!) demonstrating the hold the 60s still has over us, especially those for whom the 60s is a legend told by parents to their children round the Playstation.

The Fog Band are a bunch of dandies (except for the bass player who, frankly isn’t trying!), with singer Bobby Grindrod (who resembles a teenage Ian Page) particularly peacockish in Eton-boy’s-day-off blazer and slacks. They play with an Action-type 60s swagger mixed with a punky Clash disdain. There’s a splendid punkabilly run through of ‘These Boots Are Made For Walking’ although their Stonesy blues testifying doesn’t quite come off, owing to their youthful lack of credibility in the soul-selling, woman-stealing stakes. However, their last track, which might be called ‘It’s Been Time To Leave For Quite Some Time’ is corking Smiths-meets-Libertines jangle-pop that’s just the ‘leave ‘em wanting more’ exit that bands need.

For a decade that preached liberation, the art/ fashion/ music of the 60s reveals how sexist it really was. This show – largely inspired and run by women, as far as I can tell - highlights how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go. The outfits of The Action Men – vicars and doctors – acknowledge and subvert the expectation that dance groups – who are normally female, when they’re not the Chippendales - should wear provocatively the fetishised clothing of fantasy stereotypes. So they perform two numbers in character, coming close to kickboxing the front row to death in the first, and performing some slinky Northern Soul floordrops and shimmies in the second. Are they just having fun or making a statement? Dunno, but as the junior and less numerous sibling of the Actionettes, it’s nice to see men dancing in the same uninhibited way as their sisters. And keeping their pants on.

The Schla La Las are funny, sassy and stunning in new Shane Kingdon outfits – a cross between the Pan Am hostesses in the film ‘2001’ and Hefner bunnygirls. Though they kick off with their surf guitar signature song, they’re more Kim Gordon than Annette Funicello; this band has more cojones than a Barcelona butcher’s shop. The vocal and instrumental duties are constantly rotating but the sound is constant, tumbling out as the purest pop, but with a sharp-tongued edge: like the Jesus and Mary Chain in a drinking contest with Kleenex while Lee Hazlewood keeps score. At one point they take a ‘Sunshine Superman’ riff and inject it with a Shangri-Las chorus and that’s before we get into the heavenly harmonies. It’s the spirit of 60s pop with a riot grrl twist. Sisters are definitely doing it for themselves, and they’re doing it better than the brothers…

Photos courtesy of Bob at Underexposed

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