"No chance you can stand there, mate". I shuffle along again. "Nah, mate, on yer bike." People are truly protective of their spot in this show because you need to know what's going on on stage; a stage that is dressed something like what would happen if Flaming Lips were put in the washing machine with KISS and Ministry. Afterall, this is seven years since Fever Ray last played in the UK, and with the recent release of their second album, Plunge, which follows self-titled album released 2009; they've strengthened their global reputation as subversive musical geniuses. But they'll want none of the ego.
Fever Ray are, it seems, more about unsettling taboos, and de-tangling toxic discourses than they are about emboldening their social status for personal gain. Of the six bandmates on stage, singer Karin Dreijer is the leading voice and is largely outspoken about gender and sexual politics off stage. Tonight she's wearing a t-shirt that reads “I love Swedish Girls”, stuffed baggy pants, is one in a bunch of elaborately dressed carnival misfits; each member wearing something entirely different: one's wearing a muscle woman body padding. And issues for sexual and gender minorities is one of the most immediately palpable messages that emanates.
Momentarily, the body decor feels like a wry commentary on how girls are shaped to look in pop music by society when they juxtapose their unique look with mic poses ubiquitous in conservative girl groups. It's also essential to see a group not sing about banal things through an artistic medium that's been so heavily dominated by heteronormative sexual desires, and use their stage for more visceral, homoerotic ones: "I want to rub my fingers up yer pussy," is sung on 'To The Moon and Back' as they rub their hands over the top of each other’s ornate costume.
The dance moves are set to Latin rhythms that hint at much time spent in South America, or at least a fascination with the continent. It changes much of their material from how it's heard on the record and on a cold March evening in London, makes for a joyous shift in mood. Karin Dreijer even says "gracias" at one point. And although it's a traditional sonic reference, as with anything Fever Ray has ever done, it's so brilliantly produced that you can't help but feel in the moment; or even light years ahead of time. You can't help but feel plunged into their world courtesy of broad, widescreen lush layers of digitally produced sound.
The cohesion, careful architecture of the set - with ebbs and flows in the right places - dawns on me when hearing the penultimate, and post-encore cut 'If I Had A Heart' reimagined as a folk tune that feels timeless, like something that would have been sung the dawn of industrialisation in a rural gathering. Finishing things off with the PA cranked back up for 'Mamma's Hand' – and the lights on full swing - they exit to a hero’s welcome. Astounding, empowering gig that will do some damage in festival season.
