Villagers, Live At Dolan's Warehouse

Villagers start their set as they mean to go on, opening with throbbing newbie ‘Grateful Song’, which is completely unlike anything on their debut Becoming A Jackal.
Conor J. O’Brien and friends – who admit to being “terrified” - are certainly grateful for the rapturous response at the end of a 16-song set that contains a mere five tunes from their Mercury-nominated, Ivor Novello-winning debut.
Yet Villagers seem assured and deeply confident in the new material, and so they should. The three-part harmonies and melody of ‘Nothing Arrived’ are so upbeat as to be surprising, textured and layered with O’Brien’s trademark howl.
The slight electro murmur of ‘The Waves’ builds to a crescendo. It is clear O’Brien has lost none of his propensity for vivid lyrics, declaring “One man’s innocence is another’s chance”. The bass-lead groove and crashing pianos on ‘Passing A Message’ stand in stark contrast to the dark and menacing ‘Beatitudes’, with O’Brien’s tender vocals delicately brought to the fore.
The acoustic ‘My Lighthouse’ and ‘In A Newfoundland’ – the latter with piano – are spine-tingling and cause an awed hush to settle on the room. The rocky, almost spoken word vibe of ‘Earthy Pleasure’ is the only song that threatens to unravel and seems a bit rawer than the rest. Villagers demo an instrumental song called ‘Awayland’ that flows with waves of guitars and pianos and shows that this is a band keen to experiment, efore the double-whammy of ‘Set The Tigers Free’ and ‘Ship Of Promises’ sends the audience home happy – and sated.