After a traumatic week personally, I was very grateful for the high pace of my Autumn dance card, and glad to get back to gigging ways; so could ask for no better hosts than Editors, likely the UK’s finest exponents of this many splendored thing we call rock. Barely a 2 year gap has elapsed since their last album and subsequent Reading Fest 2013 appearance and triumphant O2 Academy showing later that Autumn, but they’re back, with a new album “In Dream” hitting the racks last week, on cursory first listen harking back to the more experimental dark and claustrophobic electronics of “In This Light And On This Evening”. Possibly a bleak one in prospect, reflecting my overall current mood, but no bad thing…
I
was joined for this by Facebook friend and fellow gig-counter Stuart, 10 years my senior but with an equally undimmed passion for
rock, and his teen son Rory, who happily appears to have
inherited his old man’s thirst for “live” music. The drive down to
Bristol therefore fairly whipped by in a whirl of rock chat, and we
parked up in Trenchard fairly unhindered, despite a serious blaze having
occurred nearby during the day. Took a seat at the
front of the stalls (to rest my knee, which had been playing up for a
few days, and Stuart’s foot, injured by a box at home – poor old
buggers!) for openers, Kilsyth
reprobates The Twilight Sad, who operated in similar dark and gloomy
sonic territory to tonight’s headliners, albeit with a smoother keyboard
sound augmenting their own claustrophobic mood.
Third number, “Prossy” was a tantalising rockist wall of sound, whilst
other numbers were shoegazy, bleak and funereal, with yearning vocals
from the heavily Scottish accented James Graham, who, as part of his
passionate performance also abandoned the mic,
Craig Finn like, to proclaim directly to the crowd. Messy in parts,
absorbing in others, this was an entirely apposite support, impressing
me enough to pick their CD up afterwards.
Ran
into old Brunel face Stefan Milsom (probably for the first time since
the last Editors Colson Hall show!) before I took a wander down the
front, pitching up 3 rows back stage right for a superb
viewing – and dancing! – spot. Editors took the stage bang on 9 to no
intro, the eerie spotlight and moody, sparkling synth embellishing
opener “No Harm”, vocalist Tom Smith switching between his usual
sonorous, rich and resonant baritone, and an eerie, soaring
falsetto. The mid-tempo “Sugar”, next up, continued the elegiac,
melancholic mood, with Smith already dramatically enacting every note,
whilst the band carefully and deliberately eased themselves into this,
only the 3rd set of this tour.
This
was a varied set, highlighting the slower, moodier material on the new
album whilst breaking the pace up with a sprinkling of older numbers,
but at times initially felt as though it was dragging
somewhat. So whilst an early double of the jerky, jagged and upbeat
“Blood” and the excellent “End Has A Start” got me rocking out, the set
then drifted until a brilliant, soaring “Racing Rats” dragged it back
from the brink. As if to also illustrate the inconsistency
of the set, newie “Salvation” was disappointingly muddied and
dirge-like, but the subsequent “A Ton Of Love” was massive, triumphant
and celebratory, with Smith’s vocals filling this ornate old theatre,
and “Fingers In The Factories” might just have been the
best number in the set, the tight staccato rhythm and riffery leading
to a strident, fist-pumping chorus, breathless and brilliant.
“That
was quite some fire tonight! I was going to play “Smokers” but my dad
texted me to play “All Sparks” [instead] as nobody died!” announced
Smith, bolting on a fat acoustic and ending up playing
both anyway, “Smokers” in particular benefitting from this
stripped-back arrangement, soaked with unexpected sadness and
melancholy. A radically reworked “Nothing” was flag-waving and anthemic,
a quantum improvement from the string arrangement on the last
CD, and the Interpol-lite slashing monotone guitar riff of “Munich”
ended an occasionally frustratingly inconsistent but ultimately
worthwhile set.
The
encore highlight of “Papillon” saw Smith, angular and pliable
throughout, challenge the hitherto-static Bristol crowd with, “Bristol;
are you there?” and throw kinetic shapes to the robotic synth
beat, while colleague Russell Leetch (whom I’m convinced caught my eye
and gave me an approving nod for throwing my own shapes earlier in the
set) indulged in some low-slung New Order/ Hooky bass shenanigans,
leading the song to a lengthy and cacophonous conclusion.
I then grabbed a list and (eventually) a tatty and used drumstick for
Rory, then met up for a similarly swift and chatty drive home,
reflecting on the show. As I said, a little frustrating in parts, due to
the unfamiliarity and initially dour nature of the
new stuff; a lot of new material for such an early set on the tour, and
no introductions throughout as well – Editors, you contrary bunch!
Nonetheless, this was another overall entertaining and much-needed gig
in the company of Editors, the band who, for me,
still head the field for UK bands!
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