Noah and The Whale - Live at the Palace Theatre

The Palace Theatre on Cambridge Circus has a banner of yellow around the top of it advertising Singing in the Rain; a cluster of brightly coloured umbrellas adorns the front of the theatre, brash and loud. The only sign that Noah and The Whale are actually playing here is the beige tarpaulin sign announcing their show (which is swiftly dismantled at the end of it), the clusters of dedicated fans waiting to get in and the boiler-suited concierges. More on them later.

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.

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.

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.