The 1975 at the Enmore Theatre, 30/7/14 - Live Review

It is alluring to see how The 1975 are simultaneously so humble and so pompous. Perhaps they are drunk - on their momentous success or otherwise. Indeed, as frontman Matt Healy emerged (fittingly) with a bottle of wine and a cigarette in hand, it was believable for an incredibly small second that perhaps we might be inside of a small bar in a begotten era in some other faraway city. Alas, a dotted wall of fluorescent strobe lights and the exultant rise of glowing

screens trashed this very idea. Soon, clean and clinking indie-pop guitar lines were proficiently realised, a polished studio sound unravelled finely. The concordant buzzing of synths, gleaming and modular - for minutes on end, at times - increased the (for it can only be described as) desire of the crowd - for a look in the eye, for a wave, for a connection.

Lamentably, and somewhat anti-climatically, it was evident that the only true connection made was between the mobile phones of each head in the house, and their respective 3G networks; (in the name of Our Lord Snapchat). Obligatory. Although Healy’s banter was sometimes nothing more than banter, his commentary on the inevitable use of technology is refreshing: “We hadn’t really released anything in Australia except for on the internet… how many people found out about us from the internet? Yeah, yeah I thought so, that’s great. That really is great. So you’ve all been watching us on screens this whole time? How many people are seeing us in real life for the first time tonight? Because you’ve watched through screens all this time, I just want you guys to put away your phones for this one song.” Artists such as She & Him, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and recently even Prince prefer to ignore the definite changes in live-music culture in (daresay conservatively) banning completely the use of camera devices, in an often brash and reprobative fashion. Ultimately this backs the aim of preserving a “traditional live music experience” which condemns those who don’t comply. Au contraire, The 1975 can acknowledge the reality that in this day and age it is unavoidable to be faced with a-thousand-or-so smartphones, especially in the band’s so popular niche. Rather than approaching the “problem” with a piece of laminated A4 paper stuck on the door of a venue, the band accepts the nature of the modern audience and thus probably better understands the integral role of technology in further spreading their music and in building a dedicated fanbase.

Perhaps dedicated is an understatement. As of natural course, the audience was

enough to rival that of any large boyband, and an average of three girls were pulled over the barriers of this compact frenzy of a moshpit per one song. “This isn’t a Mastadon concert!” Healy cried out, before taking several more swigs from his lone bottle of wine. A sad consequence of such devotion is that the danceability and debonaire of the less emotionally weighted tracks were lost on the crowd. The band were not detached; rather distant, unattainable. In light of this, an unwavering black-and-white aesthetic and effortlessly (almost carelessly) proficient musicianship elevated the performance to the boisterous level on which it shined. What is at first glance an overdone performance succumbs to the idea that it is instead composed intricately, calculated. Girls in love with boys who sing in front of lights in time with saxophones in tune with synths – this is the success of The 1975.

Review by Jessica Syed

Photos by Geneva Valek with additions by Dylan Moore VIEW MORE HERE

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