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Sat 20 Dec – Ratatat, FM Belfast It was doors open at 11.30 so i figured getting to the venue for about 1am (it's Reykjavík) would be good for catching the start of Ratatat's set. It felt a bit like walking into an end of term party in a very dated night club - sorry, "nite club" - where the average age seemed to be about 18 - although that couldn't be, given the drinking laws - but there was certainly an awful lot of juvenile running-around and some hilariously awful "dancing" going on, which for some of the less-glamorous girls just involved crawling across the dance floor; i don't know what they were trying to be...cats?, witches? oh, who knows? So after an hour of the strictly by-the-numbers Saturday night dj set (and remember, i got there at 1.00; this guy could have already been knocking it out for an hour and a half), support act FM Belfast came on and delivered their relentlessly jolly party set. The troupe of percussionists (Retró Stefson and friends) accompanying the band on the cramped stage certainly seemed to be having fun, and some of the boys even stripped down to their underwear for one song, although I'm not quite sure why. After that it was back to the dj for another half hour or so of his schtick, picking up exactly where he left off, 4/4 120bpm "celebrate!celebrate!" Then lights down and Ratatat came on at 3,15am. Surely this is a bit late, even by Reykjavík standards? By this time the audience on the dance floor was so smashed on vodka mixers and piss-poor Danish lager anyone could have wandered on stage and done a turn; i know i was almost past caring. Despite a rousing chant Ratatat!Ratatat! before the band appeared, the dance floor started to clear as soon as the duo started playing a perfectly good set. Me, i like their mix of angular, choppy beats and guitar wig-outs, but the feeling of a-sudden-loss-of-interest was quite palpable. It really did feel like New York art-rock meets school disco. Anyway, i have no idea how the evening was programmed but the impression i got was that the band was the club-closer, getting on stage only after the Icelanders had done their usual Saturday-night thing...i mean, there really were a couple of guys rolling on the carpet (by this time i had made my way to the balcony; it had carpet) next to me, you know... "wrestling", friendly, but in that weird, drunk, slo-mo way that guys do. Sometimes. Anyway, if the band really were responsible for the late start they didn't do themselves any favours (for me at least); if the responsibility lay with the venue, i have the suspicion (and of course i could be wrong) it was purely to rake in as much cash as possible at the bars; and while i remember, Ratatat had only been on for about 15 minutes when the house lights came on upstairs. The bars had stopped serving! I didn't stay until the end; I was looking forward to a 45 minute walk home through the snow.