Seeing the normally sensible Conor J. O’Brien squirm around the Academy stage on his knees is quite a sight. And we’re only two songs into Villagers’ set. Backed by an energetic band, O’Brien is in fantastic form. From a pained croak to an out-and-out wail, tonight’s peformance has him exploring the full breadth of his talents.
Next, Kendal rockers Wild Beasts take up position against a demure starry backdrop, welcomed by a round of deafening whoops. When last we met the lusty foursome, they were performing to a suitably wild crowd in the Academy 2; sweating and jeering, as all good crowds should, but probably less than 200 punters in all. Five months later, they’ve sold out the main venue to its 850 capacity and touts are flagging me down on Abbey Street in search of a spare ticket.
“I think maybe the reason so many of you are here tonight is because Hot Press made us their album of the year,” Hayden Thorpe gushes from the spotlight, “something that shocked us as much as it probably did you!”
Awh shucks, Wild Beasts. ‘Tweren’t nothin’.
While tunes from Two Dancers (the marvellous record in question) dominate the set, Limbo Panto lovelies ‘Please Sir’, ‘Devil’s Crayon’ and palpable highlight ‘Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants’ prove that the young Brits are anything but one-trick beasts.
Thorpe’s now infamous falsetto is in glorious shape, as is the band’s other trademark, a dollop of unabridged sexual tension. In an oddly refreshing contradiction, Thorpe and co-vocalist Tom Fleming possess the bravado to croon lyrics like “Any rival who goes for our girls will be left thumb-sucking in terror” without indulging in OTT show-offery. There’s no frontmanly swagger about the Wild Beasts’ live show, yet there are full-on screaming girls hot after their bones.
I have to agree with the groupies: it was a privilege to have them back in our midst.