Photo: WENN
Snow falls on a sweaty mass of bodies. Sputnik is lowered to the floor; its nightly shift as both disco ball and futuristic LED display complete. Brass, choirs and electronic soundscapes fuse into something coherent yet strangely unsettling. Welcome to the world of Public Service Broadcasting.
The ever-growing South London pioneers continue their mission to inform, educate and entertain at Brixton Academy tonight at a show that serves both as a triumphant homecoming and to signal a step up into a higher musical orbit.
It’s fitting that Public Service Broadcasting’s first full album dealt very much in terrestrial themes and the second looks to the stars for inspiration. In the ambition of their music, aesthetic and stagecraft it can be seen as a fitting metaphor for their own short career so far.
But that’s not to say that all from the band’s early days has been abandoned. The corduroy trousers, DIY ethic and obsession with recent British military history are all still apparent tonight. Old favourites 'Spitfire', 'London Can Take It' and 'If War Should Come' sit snugly alongside newer celestial offerings that demonstrate lush orchestral arrangements mixed with Soviet-style sparsity of sound.
In early shows multi-instrumentalist and ‘frontman’ J Willgoose Esq shared almost all of the musical responsibilities with drummer Wrigglesworth and a whole lot of samples.
While they still provide the meat of the audio offering, new permanent member JF Abraham beefs up the live sound with percussion, bass and flugelhorn (we are told in no uncertain terms that it is not a trumpet).
And tonight a choir, live string section and guest vocalists The Smoke Fairies (who sounds magnificent on the Lynchian Valentina) add to the spine tingling and electric atmosphere Public Service Broadcasting can summon seemingly effortlessly.
Recent album The Race For Space provides the majority of the epic wall of sound moments that raise the hairs of the back of the neck. 'The Other Side' is so evocative of the tension and danger of early space travel you can almost smell the sweat and stale tobacco of mission control in Houston.
For all this you could never accuse Public Service Broadcasting of forgetting to inject a sense of fun into their shows. A sing-along of sorts for 'Go!' and dancing astronauts for 'Gagarin' provide moments of pure joy. And as the snow falls on the crowd during Everest you’d be forgiven for feeling an ever so fleeting sense of optimism about the fate of the human race.
This won’t last of course. Nothing lasts. But with Public Service Broadcasting you are transported briefly to a world where that doesn’t matter. They have returned from the moon to South London and more than deserve this moment of triumph. You’d be a fool not to share it with them.
