I
really didn’t see this one coming…
I’d
somewhat given up on Editors of late… after proclaiming them the Best Band in
Britain for a chunk of years around the early 2010s, with their initial dark, gloomy
goth-tinged staccato post-punk subsequently given extra dimension with
increasing layers of intriguing synth noise (a similar journey to the utterly
stellar first 3 or 4 Simple Minds albums), they’d then blotted their copybook with
me, with 3 albums in a row which went from average to dull to pretty crap
actually, loaded with swathes of suffocatingly turgid stadium pomp. I’d
actually stated, after their entertaining but uneven set on the Cure Hyde Park
undercard in 2018 (gig 1,095), that “in all honesty they’re sadly a couple of
albums past their recorded best”, so approached last year’s “EBM” effort with
understandable trepidation. However, this was a revelation – a collaborative
effort with Blanck Mass (apparently a former member of drone outfit Fuck
Buttons), this not only saw Editors go full-on electro, but rediscover their
mojo big-time with some rampant, rollicking jet-propelled tuneage, as if they
were (fairly successfully, actually!) trying to write an album full of “I
Travel”’s! The phrase “Return To Form” was insufficient to do it justice, as it
and Suede’s similarly unlikely contender “Autofiction” duked it out for my
Album Of The Year honours, “EBM” finally prevailing by a short head. With Mr.
Mass (!) now confirmed as a full-time member of Editors, I was excited to hear
this material “live”, even if it meant a trip to the difficult to find,
difficult to park at and bloody c-c-cold Marble Factory…
Stuart
was scheduled to join me, but unfortunately didn’t grab a ticket before it sold
out! So, an early departure for a solo jaunt pitched me up half an hour before
doors, parking next to a wall art of WWE star Paul Bearer (!) and queueing up
in the dank drizzle. Grabbed a second-row spot house right, behind a tall and
enthusiastic Czech bloke (more on him later) and next to a friendly goth/emo
mum and daughter, so some rock chat passed the time until support KVB joined us
at 8. A boy/girl guitar and synth duo, they were all over the place, kicking
off with some drum machine propelled mumblecore shoegaze (the guy’s vocals
being very down in a muffled mix; more on that later too…), but then diverting
through groovier 80’s OMD-like synthpop, “Floodland”-era Sisters goth, detached,
Numan/Nine Inch Nails proto-emo (“Urbanised”), and poor droney dirges (closer
“Dazed”). All atmosphere, though, with no real tunes to rub together to make
fire, so a bit frustrating really, as there were some nice
Cure/Bunny/McGeoch-like guitar licks amongst the murk.
Opted
for a quick loo break just before the witching hour (sometimes you gotta go
when you can, not when you want to), which nearly proved a major mistake, as
this old warehouse room was by now utterly rammed. Anyway, I luckily made my
way back before Editors took the stage to swathes of dry ice, blood red backlit
spotlights and anticipatory bubbling synth… They then launched into opener
“Heart Attack”, but it immediately felt as if half the sound was left on the
launchpad, the growling bass and tumbling drum clatter being the prominent
sounds in this “live” mix, with the synth – the major feature on record –
almost a muffled afterthought, remaining disappointingly so throughout this
initial clutch of primarily new numbers. The band themselves were on fine form;
vocalist Tom Smith was his kinetic, angular self from the off, throwing shapes
with reckless abandon and delivering his deep, sonorous vocals with gravitas
and authority (notably on “Pictureseque”, his quickfire choral rap totally
carrying this number), and bassist Russell Leitch (immediately in front of me
onstage) was in fantasy band camp, making eye contact with the crowd and
grinning knowingly, particularly at my Czech fellow punter who was going
utterly mental. However, I was just frustrated that all the interesting synth squalls,
bleeps and bloops were barely audible!
However
“Sugar” was a major early highlight, the stately sweep and dramatic, Middle
Eastern-tinged (“Cutter”-esque?) “whoa-oh” middle 8 break heralding a sea
change in the set. The backbeat drums and circular hook of a subsequent “Bullets”
and the itchy, insistent “Fingers In The Factories” were both utterly tremendous, as
the set really took flight either side of a brief solo acoustic interlude from
the frontman. “Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors”, their high watermark, was
its’ usual widescreen build to a huge crescendo, then the hurtling pace and anthemic
singalong hook of a brilliant “Racing Rats” was ultimately my set highlight. A
couple of numbers from the more recent albums were fine “live” if a little
overlong, but “Strange Intimacy” was an excellent finish to a sprawling, 1 hour
40 minute set, the hectic pitter patter synth pattern finally a bit louder in
the mix.
A
brilliant, cascading “An End Has A Start” and the jump-along, sheet metal synth
terrace chant of an extended “Papillon” bookended the encore, Tom and Co.
taking a deserved bow after a committed showing, the band at least leaving it
all onstage. And actually, despite the poor mix, uneven sound and occasionally
variable song selection, I’d been “giving it loads” myself throughout, regularly
bumping into the back of my equally energetic Czech fellow dancer. Got handed a
list (Tom’s own, from the top of his piano; yay!) and bade farewell to my
goth/emo friends, then ran into fellow Nada Surf fan Julian on the way out for
a quick chat, before a stiff-and-sore limp back to the car, and a dank drizzly
drive back to the ‘don via an annoying diversion off the M4 at J17, home just
after midnight. A shame then that the new material suffered with poor sound at
this less than stellar venue (bet it would’ve sounded brilliant at O2
Academy!), but I couldn’t fault the band’s effort and performance tonight. So after
that, and if “EBM” is the shape of things to come, they can count themselves well
and truly back on my gig radar!
.JPG)