Inside the theatre, it’s much the same; the dark wood of the
circle has a certain elegance to it without being overly showy. The stage is
quite small, and there are faded rugs on the floor for the convenience of the
performers. It’s a relatively small venue, and yet there were still whole rows
of empty seats. This surprised me, seeing as their single L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N
reached Number 14 in the UK charts and their third album Last Night on Earth
reached Number 8 in the UK album charts.
However, the whole set up of the show, the understated
intimacy of it all, perfectly reflects the vibe of Noah and The Whale. They don’t
need to scream and shout for the limelight, because their skill and humility speaks
for itself. Charlie Fink’s muttered “thank yous” after every song, Tom Hobden
missing his cue on the piano at the beginning of There Will Come A Time – it all
seems very human and easygoing.
The concept of the show was this: they wouldn't have a
support act. Instead they would play an acoustic set, then there would be a
showing of the short film that accompanies their new album Heart of Nowhere, a
short interval, ending in a full live set. This worked so well. They acted as
their own support act, easing the audience in with acoustic versions of Give A Little Love, Tonight’s The Kind Of Night and Not Too Late. It shows a
confidence in their material that they allow themselves to start off with the
more intimate songs.
All of the songs were so skilfully played and done so with such
passion from every member that the audience refrained from the usual mid-song
whoops; instead they sat enthralled and reserved the cheers for the end. The
original 5 members were accompanied by Tom Hobden’s string quartet, and they
added a new level to the already layered and intricate songs; they slot right
in, and complement the band so well.What I loved
about the acoustic set was that they played some songs from their achingly
beautiful second album First Days of Spring. You would think that the subject
matter would be
too painful, too personal to be able to play them live, but the band did an amazing job of translating the intimacy of these songs into an inclusive live performance.
too painful, too personal to be able to play them live, but the band did an amazing job of translating the intimacy of these songs into an inclusive live performance.
It was with First Days of Spring that you could particularly
appreciate the difficulty of such a task. It built up and dipped down again just as on
the CD, but as a live performance the meaning of the lyrics and sentiment of
the song became suddenly clearer. Towards the end of the song, a disco ball lit
up in the corner, and a full-on light show came into play, adding to the
strength of the emotion.
Next was the short film, written and directed by Charlie
Fink, sharing a name with their newest album. Each band member has a short
cameo, mostly as wardens for the fictional Teenland, an island where all
teenagers are kept in quarantine until they can be integrated back into
society. This is where the boiler-suited concierges come in. The premise of the
film was that three boys, presumably based on the three founding members of
Noah and The Whale, run away from this imprisonment. They then decide to play
one last gig to go out with a bang instead of being caught “like rats”.
Although it’s only half an hour long, the quality of the
acting and cinematography mean that you get the entire plot without it needing
to go on for two hours. The closeness of the shots allows for an almost
intuitive assumption of each character’s personality and back story One
distinctly touching scene was when the bassist tells his future self not to “let
them cut your hair. You have great hair.” Indeed, it has to be said that Noah
and The Whale’s bassist Matt Owens (more affectionately known as Urby Whale)
really does have great hair.
The interval allows for some comfort that you don’t usually
get with live shows; Fink refers to this during the show laughingly, saying “next
we’ll be playing in the DFS showroom. Then you won’t even know we’re playing
because you’ll be asleep”. But again, this unusual, almost theatrical set up
reflects the tone and vibe of the band themselves.
Although the acoustic set was fantastic, it was with the
full live set that Noah and The Whale fully came into themselves. They made it
so the audience felt a particular affinity with every song, as though the band
were playing it just for them. The way that Fink’s voice bounced and glided off
each note draws you in; you can’t possibly look away. They’re clearly all so
passionate about their material, shown in Charlie’s bouncing, Urby’s hair
swishes, Tom’s toe tapping, Matt’s swaying and Fred’s air drumming. If
anything, this part of the show emphasised their versatility; songs like Heart
of Nowhere and All Through The Night show that Noah and The Whale can do rock
as well as anyone. As they played Silver and Gold, Fink announced that it was
the first time they've performed it live, and it kicked off magnificently.
Throughout all of this, the audience’s excitement is slowly
building, until someone plucks up the courage to yell “I love you!” to which
Fink gives a thumbs up and goes “thank you!” Somebody then yelled “Stranger!!”
To my absolute delight, they played it. Halfway through, Fink forgot the words,
and Tom Hobden, Michael Petulla and Fred Abbott were clearly improvising, but
this only served to embed the idea that they are just five normal guys playing
music they love, grateful for the attention. Speaking to Urby Whale afterwards,
he thanked me for coming out to see them. Astounded, I replied it was my
absolute pleasure, that I’d love to any time to which he just smiled
thankfully. Charlie Fink shook our hands and thanked us for our support. The
actual Charlie Fink. Yes, really.
During Still After All These Years, somebody handed Urby
Whale a guitar, and he and Fred Abbott exchanged guitar solos, with Charlie
Fink standing back, grinning at each one. Again, this not only reaffirmed the versatility of their music, but the versatility of each band member. This was when you truly got to see
the amicability between them, the
sincere friendship. Long may it last – I want them to keep producing albums for as long as possible.
sincere friendship. Long may it last – I want them to keep producing albums for as long as possible.
As soon as the opening chords of 5 Years’ Time began to play,
the entire theatre got up on their feet and began to dance; my photographer,
the lovely Maya Colwell, said to me afterwards that she doesn't think she’s
ever danced that much in a theatre before. It allowed the audience to be as
uninhibited as if they were at a festival, and danced madly, hands in the air,
screaming all the words. Then came the amazing L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N. I, personally,
went slightly crazy, arms waving everywhere and bawling out each line. I think
I got several odd looks from those sitting in front of me, but I really couldn't have cared less. The band themselves looked invigorated by this outpouring of
support that they allowed the crowd to sing the last chorus, stepping back
modestly from the microphones to allow our generic voice to come through.
As they went off, the screams of “encore!” got louder and
louder, so they conceded and came on again to play the fantastic Lifetime. Some
might say that ending on a new song was risky, but in all honesty, it
integrated the new material further into their repertoire, making them firm
favourites with everybody.
Rating: 11/10. Every time.
Rating: 11/10. Every time.
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