IN Slow Club's question-and-answer session with The Press to preview last Friday's tour date at Pocklington Arts Centre, Rebecca Taylor gave an unexpectedly tart answer to what had been intended as complimentary in spirit.

"What makes boy-girl duos such a winning combination in pop?", your reviewer asked. "Not sure – not sure about the winning bit?! Also I prefer 'man-woman' duo," came Rebecca's reply.

Maybe playing to only 38 people in Stoke would give credence to Rebecca questioning the "winning bit", but closer to 120 gathered in a better response in Pock.

The question faced by Rebecca and Charles Watson ten years after forming Slow Club in Sheffield is where they fit in, now that they are a "man-woman duo" in which the self-deprecating Rebecca still craves "feeling like Whitney".

The promotional picture that accompanied their third album, last year's Complete Surrender, only muddied the waters, as Rebecca and Charles stuck their heads through an old-fashioned seaside cut-out, eyes shielded by dark glasses. Were they having a laugh or too cool for school?

It was equally difficult to read their mood in Pocklington. Bolstered by a bass player and a new drummer in his first week, Slow Club showed flexibility, switching ably between instruments, Rebecca taking to the drums at one point, but there was an unsettled air about them, neither one thing nor another. Rebecca came across as a rock chick in black with a waspish Yorkshire humour but had the voice of a soul diva too; Charles wore a beanie hat throughout, as if he were about to head out into the cold, but gradually warmed to the night.on guitar and piano.

Songs were proficiently structured and played, but in the progression from the "anti-folk" of Slow Club's debut to the echoes of Stax and Motown on Complete Surrender, they passed through your head rather than lodging there; surrender incomplete. Where do Slow Club go next? Back to the drawing board.