Photo: Illias Teirlinck
When the Leftfield live show originally rolled onto the road in the mid 90s, they were arguably the hardest, loudest and most brutal of the big techno acts doing the rounds at the time. Reflecting the chemical reality of the times, no doubt, the more subtle edges and eclectic influences of their masterpiece debut album Leftism were lost in the bid for sheer power.
More than two decades on, and now operating minus the fairly recently departed Paul Daley, they have a chance redress the balance somewhat. Tonight's sell out audience are clearly here to hear the big bangers and lose their collective shit before returning home to relieve their babysitters. But thankfully, along with the generous helpings of crunchy dancefloor thumpery they crave, this retrospective airing of the album from start to finish is a much more interesting and multi-faceted affair.
Where their previous approaching to playing live was your archetypal faceless blokes pushing buttons to a dazzling lightshow, this is much more a carnival of dubby delights with the duo's remaining member Neil Barnes as its ringmaster. It's like witnessing a beefed up version of Massive Attack's amorphous sound system vibe, with an ongoing array of vocal talent joining the stage to front them. Earl Sixteen's booming but honeyed tones make 'Release The Pressure' an early highlight, and Danny Red drives the first half of the set along with dexterous reggae toasting given some equally skillful manipulation, phrases and syllables caught up, amplified and multiplied dub style via the mixing desk. With crystal clear sound, the anthemic reflection of 'Melt' is another emotive highlight, as are the choppy proto-jungle churnings of 'Storm 3000'.
The latter notches up the intensity significantly before the album closing pair of songs really seal the deal with an already frothing audience. The face of John Lydon beams down from a huge screen during 'Open Up', the refrain of “burn Hollywood burn” sung along lustily by the crowd, the former Sex Pistol's voice once again dubbed up and messed around with beautifully. But the best moment is saved to the very end, as esteemed poet Lemn Sissay delivers Leftism's breathtaking closer '21st Century Poem', arms waving in apparent desperation as he spits out its poignant lines.
So many acts boil down their complexities and remove their knottier concepts in the name of showbusiness as they progress, but in Leftfield's case they're going the other way. More power to their (left) elbow.
