Placebo, Brixton Academy, 27/9/10

It’s not often that a band, sixteen years after their debut release, can maintain the standard and intensity with which they first blasted onto the scene, but tonight Placebo manage it with ease. 

Storming through a rampant eighteen-song set barely stopping to take a breath, Brian Molko and co. possess a drive and energy that easily rivals their younger counterparts. Fan favourite ‘Nancy Boy’ kick-starts the evening into life; its grinding guitars contrasting with Molko’s visceral, quavering tones. ‘Battle For The Sun’ sees lyrics fiercely spat out over the imperious drum beat, and the classic ‘Every You Every Me’ transports us back to the days when the band’s style was more poetically agonizing. Newer offering ‘Trigger Happy’, with its refrain of “Put your hands in the air, wave them like you give a fuck”, has the sold-out capacity crowd tonight doing just that, whilst the frenetic riffs of ‘For What It’s Worth’ exhilarate and enchant the audience. And with the stage crew sporting Joker-painted faces and bassist Stefan Olsdal modelling a metallic silver suit, it would be easy to believe that this show is far from serious business for Placebo. But the vehemence with which they play indicates otherwise.

Those familiar with the trio’s Covers release will know that Placebo excel at putting their own spin on other peoples’ tracks, and this evening’s version of Nirvana’s ‘All Apologies’ is no exception. Add this to a thrilling encore culminating in an electrifying rendition of ‘Taste In Men’ and the crowd are left feeling as if they have been loaded with something a million miles away from the bands’ namesake. Now it is often suggested that Placebo’s glory days are long gone, but judging by this intense and galvanizing performance, it seems their time is far from up.




This review was originally published on www.the-fly.co.uk

Kasabian, Brixton Academy, 19/8/10

Now at the peak of their leery, beery powers, tonight’s Kasabian gig marks the eve of one of their biggest shows to date – a headline slot at V Festival. Swaggering onstage with his closely cropped hair, all-black outfit and dark sunglasses, lead singer Tom Meighan’s publicly declared desire to emulate the Gallagher brothers seems to have become more of a reality as his band’s ascension continues. Luckily for us however, their music isn’t overshadowed by in-fighting and bad attitudes.

Opening with ‘Shoot The Runner’, the crowd explode into life and barely stop to take a breath for the following ninety minutes. Already this is more than simple guitar fare, as a trio of trumpeters add a sense of fanfare to proceedings. ‘Take Aim’ sees Tom leave the stage to give chief songwriter Serge his moment in the spotlight and he grabs it with both hands as he attacks his guitar with an impassioned vigour. ‘Fast Fuse’ sets off a spark that drives the audience into an agitated frenzy, whilst ‘Club Foot’ sees the capacity of Brixton bounce as a collective and chant in a manner that wouldn’t be out of place at a football match. The only slow point comes during ‘West Ryder Silver Bullet’ as its dramatic instrumentals decrease the pace slightly, but this is merely a dot in the sumptuous tapestry of their set.

Despite the fact that the only instrument he picks up the entire gig is a tambourine, tonight is undoubtedly the Tom Meighan show. With his childlike candour and boundless exuberance, he is a true showman. The crowd are putty in his hands as he stalks around the stage like a caged animal itching to be unleashed, and by the time the band storm through ‘Fire’ in the encore, there is an electricity in the room that The Fly simply cannot help but be awed by. If tonight’s performance is Kasabian’s idea of a warm up show, then the lucky punters who witness them in bigger slots should prepare to get burnt.

This review was originally published on www.the-fly.co.uk

Editors, Brixton Academy, 25/3/10

As the old saying goes, if it ain't broke, don't fix it – and tonight Editors' performance is testament to this. Admirable as it may have been for the band to step outside their comfort zone and venture into the inscrutable realms of synthesisers for their latest album, these new-found submissions unfortunately don't seem to translate for them in the live arena as impressively as their older material does. 

Opening with ‘In This Light And On This Evening’, the title track to their third release provides a taste of Editors' quintessentially macabre sound, yet does little to encourage enthusiasm. Luckily, the vigorously guitar-riffed stormer ‘An End Has A Start’ soon stimulates the audience and it is during more energetic songs such as this that the venue seemed to really come alive. More recent ‘Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool’ acts as a sample of the traditional Editors style with poppier verses giving way to stirring drum poundings which reverberate around the venue. That said, there remains throughout a noticeable difference in crowd reaction to their newer music in comparison to classics such as 'Blood' and 'Bullets’. Execution of their rather more lacklustre current tracks sees the punters revert to idle chatter and migration towards the bar, yet the urgency behind the frenzied choruses of older material proves considerably more rousing, with the audience clearly soaking up every last note.

Despite a change in style, their newer songs are far from wanting when it comes to the familiar ardent lyrics. Tom Smith's unerring vocals contain such passionate yearning that you can't help but feel overwhelmed by the necessity of his words, and this is not something that many bands at the minute can truly boast. The effort is undeniably there then, but if Editors wish to perpetuate their status as being one of the best British bands in recent years, they need to retrieve and maintain the panache and energy that was exhibited in their early sound.



This review was originally posted on www.the-fly.co.uk

Gig review: Vampire Weekend at Brixton Academy

It'd be reasonable to assume that by going to see a band for the fourth time, you'd have a general idea of what to expect. Yet everytime I see Vampire Weekend, there is always something new about them that I seem to have completely missed before that makes the performance that little bit better for me.

Tuesday at Brixton was no different. The first surprise came before the band even picked up their instruments, dancing their way on the stage to early 90s dance classic 'Hear the Drummer'; about as far removed from their usual style as if Slash had walked on stage and played Oxford Comma with them. Chandeliers hanging above the stage were resonant of the decadent preppiness that was apparent on their debut release, but set opener White Sky automatically put a dampener on any thoughts that their live set may not have made the transition that their second album demonstrated they had. Launching their African-based beats and Koenig's yelps on the audience from the get-go, the band were evidently pleased to be there and the energy they put into their performance was both endearing and enthralling. Whilst some musicians stand stock still on stage in order to preserve their 'cool' persona, the Vampire Weekend boys refreshingly danced as if nobody was watching, which couldn't have been further from the truth.

Whereas a lot of groups that use additional musicians on their studio recordings will simply play a pre-recorded backing track or ignore this aspect of the song altogether during a live show, it was nice to see Vampire Weekend bring three violinists to accompany them onstage, especially when these instruments play such an integral role in the composition of the music as a whole. There's no doubt about it, the VW boys are wholesomely charming and lead singer Ezra Koenig who has decidely grown in confidence since their last UK tour, certainly uses this to the band's advantage. Encouraging the audience to 'pop their fists' in time to the song if they felt the inclination to do so, and trying to start a sing-a-long certainly makes you feel more involved and as a result you want the entire thing to run smoothly so as not to ruin your night as well as the band's.

Despite the impressive progression the band displayed on their second album, the biggest cheers of the night were reserved for first album classics A-Punk and Oxford Comma; though not even pop-chameleon Madonna can escape her early hits so it's hardly entirely surprising. Whilst bands such as Coldplay and Keane tend to face ridicule for being well educated and well dressed, VW have avoided such animosity by playing along with it. Gracing the stage in boat shoes demonstrates a sense of innocence and mirth that should be admired, and combining this with the fact that other indie bands mixing in tribal beats to their records are currently few and far between, it makes it rather difficult to do anything but be drawn helplessly to their middle class magnetism.

http://www.vampireweekend.com/

Feeling Under The Weather

For a band who have been formed for less than a year, a sell out show at Brixton isn't bad going. Yet when you are called The Dead Weather and your band consists of musical heavyweights such as Jack White, Alison Mosshart, Dean Fertita and Jack Lawrence, it is perhaps somewhat less surprising than originally anticipated.

For whatever reason, female fronted bands seem to have a tougher time making a good impression on audiences than their male counterparts. For every twenty successful male-led bands, there is only one successful female-led group, and this fact was definitely at the forefront of my mind before Mosshart took to the mic. But from the moment she skulked on stage, any doubts that a female lead would not be able to whip the audience up into as much of a frenzy as a male would were quickly banished. Snarling her way through the eighty minute set, Mosshart prowled around the stage with such impressive self-assurance that the audience were left in no doubt that she alone was just as worthy of their attentions as the Stripe sat on drums behind her. Despite spitting out new single 'I Cut Like A Buffalo' with an admirable tenacity and showcasing new material written just that afternoon, it was still their best known song and show-closer 'Treat Me Like Your Mother' that received the biggest response of the evening.

Photo by Walid Lodin

The Dead Weather's sound is the most raw of anything White has previously released with any of his other bands, and this certainly comes across in their live performance. With his wild, unruly hair and determined ferocity in his playing, White definitely knows how to put on a performance even from the back of the stage; it was like watching a real life Animal from the Muppets take his place in one of London's most famous music venues. Lawrence and Fertita on bass and guitar respectively were not ones to be sidelined however, and both assaulted their instruments with such voracity it was as if their lives (and musical dignity) depended on it.

However, despite the electricity and enthusiasm the quartet exuded, it is an undeniable fact that a percentage of people, however large or small, were at the gig out of curiosity to see Jack White. Don't get me wrong, 'Horehound' is one of the most impressive debuts of the year, but you do have to ask yourself if it would have attained the success and acclaim it has if it had been released by four unknowns. Unfortunately, the answer is probably not, and the extended cheers that rose from the crowd as White stepped to the front of the stage to take lead vocals on a couple of songs did nothing to dispell this possibility.

White and Co. have worked hard to demonstrate that The Dead Weather are not simply a short term side project that they've involved themselves in for a pleasant distraction. Mosshart has already declared their second album to be half completed already, though despite White's comments to the media, she is determined their next release will not be amusingly entitled 'Morehound'. Whatever title it is released under, it should cement their status as a credible rock outfit and finally earn them the respect they deserve as a consolidated group, rather than four independent musicians haphazardly strewn together.

http://www.thedeadweather.com/