Photo: Emma Viola Lilja
As Earls Court bid farewell last night, it felt a little bewildering. The venue is far from decrepit, rather a fine, healthy bastion of London’s rich musical landscape – past and present. So much so, Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour takes the stage to perform ‘Wish You Were Here’ in mournful eulogy.
Dealing in such iconic circles, the sense of occasion weighs heaviest on Bombay Bicycle Club themselves, in a show that reaches for the stars with varying success. Before the band takes the stage, a tongue in cheek faux-documentary plays out, analysing tonight’s gig 20 years on. For all the genius of the night, it turns out the band will have split and gone on to various clichéd ‘side projects’. Drummer Suren de Saram now sells kitchenware on shopping channels, bassist Ed Nash lives as some kind of eco naturist, and guitarist Jamie MacColl has developed a Craig David style fitness obsession.
Frontman Jack Steadman is meanwhile found tunnelling into synth jazz with disastrous results – lost in a personal drive for experimentation. Although a wonderfully self-deprecating short, an element of truth hangs in the air as the band’s song choice during the opening section of the show falls flat.
The songs alone are part of a brilliant album, So Long, See You Tomorrow, but the flowery sophistication of ‘Overdone’, ‘It’s Alright Now’ and ‘Come To’ offer little to kick-start the evening. Splatterings of drumbeats, trumpets and the toe-tapping genius of ‘Shuffle’ work the crowd into squeals of joy, but it’s only when backing vocalists Lucy Rose, Rae Morris, and particularly Liz Lawrence duet with Steadman that the warm beauty on record fills the arena.
But just as the night threatens to slip away, with tracks like ‘The Giantess’ preferred to ‘Eyes Off You’, Steadman flicks a switch, clattering into 'Emergency Contraception Blues', a number harking back to their days of straight-up indie rock. Its youthful clamour shatters all pretence and sends the vast arena buzzing. ‘Evening/Morning’ follows; Ed Nash’s bassline shaking the walls as the refrain “I’m ready to owe you annnnnnythinggggg” echoes around. Stadium appeal flows throughout Bhangra inspired ‘Feel’, the crowd accepting Steadman’s invitation to “have a dance party”.
Soon he’s literally banging the drum on ‘So Long’ so frenetically it’s a worry he may combust. Streamers explode from the ceiling, only beaten by the pyrotechnics during ‘Carry Me’. The show lay the groundwork for Bombay’s future. Even if their subtlety and sophistication got drowned by the bass, for all its faults, the night was a damn sight better than a block of flats.
In 20 years this band will have headlined Glastonbury, but no doubt find themselves thinking wish you were here, Earls Court.
