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This years iTunes festival is a mixed bag. There are no huge
headliners per se, (unless you count Ozzy Osbourne or Tony Bennett as huge) and the
spotlight seems to be on lesser known but critically acclaimed acts.
Using the Roundhouse has been a risk too; the venue has historical
significance but it's a big space to fill
for small bands.
Two Door Cinema Club, who supported tonight,
completely energised the crowd with their anthemic take on afrobeat '80s
jangle, setting the tone for a raucous night. Song after song was met
with whoops and cheers from the youthful crowd. Their
secret weapon is bassist Kevin Baird, adding a much needed feral
element to their upbeat catalogue.
Showcasing material from their recent second album Total Life Forever, Foals
have grown up fast. Gone are the jerky mannerisms and twitching vocals
of yesteryear, in favour of an echo-laden, thunderous Sturm-Und-Drang and
the occassional bout of real tenderness. Old numbers such as Balloons
and Cassius were dispensed with early on, leaving the Oxford boys a
chance to expand on and explore the new album's material.
More progressive in terms of length and tone, it marked a seachange in their performance.
Frontman Yannis Philippakis began slightly timidly hiding behind a fringe not seen since
Robert Smith, circa '82. In fact, The Cure is a good starting reference point
from where Foals have taken their slightly dubby, slighty
cavernous and mostly insular sound, with abrasive elements. He was
occassionally distant, but the crowd's desire to hear his
every word brought him out of his shell. The addition of a
percussionist seemed to put the whole band at ease. Guitarist Jimmy
Smith took the opportunity to frequently go centre stage and show off
his heavy metal chops, even on the almost twee recent single
Miami.
There was a lot of showing off. Alongside climbs up
speaker stacks and a feedback solo, frequent Philippakis forays
into the crowd caused confusion and excitable tension for
both audience and bewildered band members.
If there was one highlight of the evening, it was
set closer Electric Bloom. Not a particularly recent song, it wowed
everyone with a new-found intensity. Stood beside his tom tom,
pounding out the staccato beat, watching Philippakis was akin to witnessing primal therapy in
action. Battling to keep the hair out of his eyes was no longer a
problem for him; his whole body seemed to be covered in a sweat.
It was obviously a punishing, personal number for him, sprawling
out from its five minute recorded existence into a lengthy roar.
The
houselights dimmed and the smoke machine cranked up, and the band came
into their own. What could have become an awkward jam became
ferocious. Even the annoying camera boom that constantly swept overhead
seemed to be placated and all phones, cameras and recording devices
dissappeared as the hall got swept up with emotion.
Second albums can be a tough prospect. You either carry on with an
already comfortable and well recieved format or you try something new
and risk alienating those fickle enough to want hits or repetition.
Thankfully Foals have always been innovators willing to take a chance
on the unpopular option. Who else would hire TV On The
Radio's Dave Sitek to produce their debut, then decide afterwards that they could
do a better job? If tonight was anything to go by, then album number
three is going to catapult these guys internationally. For now,
they're burning a quiet storm.
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