You might as well just glue indie rock legends Razorlight to the stage here at Concorde 2, because we are not ready to let them go!
“JOHNNY you’re a legend, I f*cking love you man,” bellows a rather expressive individual, clearly empowered by wonder and liquid bravery, to the unabashed man on stage.
“Encore, encore, encore,” coos the crowd at the very back of Concorde 2 for the first obligatory round, their feet rippling like waves on the floor as if they had been transformed back into their bright-eyed teenage years, intoxicated by a placebo sort of effect. “Encore, encore, encore.” And from this call, rather expectantly, a roar from the rest of us follows.
This isn’t the first time these words have been howled tonight, and it certainly won’t be the last either. In fact, two more encores follow soon after, with the band leaving the stage only to return again, ever the more wonderful, each time. And I’m sure in their arduous 8 year-long career (removing those 10 spent in hiatus) having being inundated with various renditions of these words, Razorlight were nonetheless still just as exhilarated to hear them said again – even if it was three encores in a row.
Of course, we’re making the most of seeing the indiefied four-piece, from back in the early 2000s, in their current state; it has been a whole decade since they so generously bestowed onto us their last album, and we’re desperate for more of their music. Thankfully for us, with their latest tour, the London natives didn’t disappoint.
From shinier new gem, Olympus Sleeping, to the more iconic well-worn America, and Before I fall to pieces, the group so known for their guitar based musical beauties stun with precision and poise. Each electrifying riff from guitarist Dave, each trembling resonance from bassist Harry, that takes to the floor and consumes our chests, leaves us electrified.
With every masterpiece of sound racing from the performers’ hands and setting up camp in our ears, one after another, there isn’t much time for talking. The music is switched on constantly. The only time singer Johnny stops the ongoing parade of songs is to allow us starry-eyed audience hopefuls to chant a chorus or two for him – we want to be part of the band too. To be frank, we practically sing the whole last chorus of Golden Touch, and for all of 10 seconds live out our teenage dreams of being rockstars. Having spent most of the show sweating something crazy, and hopping about like a rabbit whom had found themselves some coffee, Johnny is just as enthused as we are at that – it gives him some time to breathe.
A few songs later, we find ourselves lapping up the last drip from the glistening stream of electronic piano chords across favourite Wire to Wire. Hearing the final note echoing across the room and seeing every pain stricken facial contortion from Johnny fade out with it, we just can’t bring ourselves to say goodbye. Luckily for us, neither can the band, as they gladly return after initially calling it a day for the expected encore, keeping us content for a while longer. But like anything, the wonderful parade of music, both new and old, has to meet the finishing line somewhere. And with the climactic sounds of America still ringing in our ears, we can’t quite let our indie rock heroes leave Brighton. We try again for another encore, but the lights on stage are getting dimmer, and in the next breath we find the well-loved group are nowhere to be seen.
I suppose we’ll all have to wait for next year to see them again. But until then, here’s a shot of Johnny’s hilarious facial contortions …
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