Sleeper, Greek Theatre, U.C.Berkeley - Robin Lapid

It's a shame that the British press continues to slag off Sleeper for music that's often described as rehashed and banal. The truth is, the British quartet's female-fronted pop group does not make innovative or even original music - but with acts like Bush and Hootie and the Blowfish on the American airwaves, this isn't necessarily the most heinous crime). However, Sleeper does put out tuneful songs with enough good hooks and catchy refrains to warrant them consideration as a fun listen and a potentially enlivening night out. And in an era where male-dominated groups still domineer the music charts, singer-guitarist Louise Wener's sexually potent and politically incisive lyrics add zest to the scene. As the opening act for Elvis Costello and the Attractions' current U.S. tour, however, some of the band's more appealing live qualities may have gotten lost in obscurity. The largely thirtysomething crowd filtering in throughout the set seemed more in need of a fix to get off their high of seeing Sting a couple of weeks ago than to test drive the latest indie music hopefuls.

Sleeper do not necessarily make easy-listening music. Sure, there are some by-the-book pop riffs and the occasional backing horns which lend a respectable gravitas to their repertoire. But underneath the bouncy, grooving sounds lurk spiky rhythms and a sardonic sense of musical self-control. During a half-hour set to an anxious crowd of Elvis followers, Sleeper delivered songs from their debut release Smart as well as their recent domestic release The It Girl. Backed by the laudable musicianship of lead guitarist Jon Stewart, bassist Diid Osman, and drummer Andy MaClure, Wener pens songs which find their own niche within the female-fronted indie scene. Edgier than Velocity Girl yet more refined than Elastica's bare-bones pop, raspy-voiced Wener sings the lives and loves of modern life a la Blur lyricist Damon Albarn. But this time it's from the perspective of a clever woman who makes no bones about the state of female sexuality rather than from a clever man who obsesses over the fears of a numbing patriarchy gone awry.

Barefoot and clad in figure-hugging jeans and t-shirt, Wener bounced around a bit and delivered the band's friendlier pop numbers but managed to sprinkle in the odd tune that bespoke their more sinister side, not just in the lyrics but in the music itself. The closing song, "Alice In Vain," demonstrates this perfectly. It's a hard-driving tune which languishes in the rhythmic stupor of the displaced heroine ("Oh ah, such a pity/ She's not even pretty").

This is the type of music best suited for the typical "indie" scene, with an intimate mass huddled together, jumping about within the dim confines of a dingy club. As an opening band at an outdoor ampitheatre filled with couples and families huddled under blankets and packed dinners, it's an entirely different mood. Elvis Costello fans clapped graciously while waiting for a musician who certainly excels in his own right. Though satisfying, Sleeper's set was a deceptive one, providing pleasant pop but with some of its fangs removed.