The Divine Comedy - 2 November 2006 - The Roundhouse, London

When Neil Hannon, the Divine Comedy’s leading light, comes back to London – in 2003, he returned to Ireland after spending 14 years in the capital – he likes to veer from the norm when it comes to venues. The courtyard of Somerset House, the Royal Albert Hall and the London Palladium have all seen Hannon in the last two years. This time round, he’s up in north London at the former railway shed that is the very round Roundhouse.

Unusual is also a fair way to describe the Divine Comedy. The group has only Hannon as a permanent member, and six years after a ‘Best of…’ album, new releases nowadays are not so much greeted with a fanfare as a cursory nod. Critically, however, Hannon’s output has maintained a high standard that has risen inversely to his band’s popularity.

This year’s ‘Victory for the Comic Muse’ album has its fair share of impressive moments, show opener ‘Mother Dear’ being one of them. The Divine Comedy have always competently carried a tune with subtle chord changes and an emphasis on intelligent rather than obscure, wishy-washy lyrics. The greatest hits are also rolled out, including ‘Becoming More Like Alfie’ and ‘Something for the Weekend’, both from the band’s relatively imperial era, when at least they could be heard on the radio.

A string section of two belies its numbers, driving tracks like ‘Our Mutual Friend’ and garnishing a cover of Prince’s ‘Raspberry Beret’. A nod to the Doors - who not only played their only UK date at the Roundhouse, but are a favourite of Mrs Hannon’s, we’re told - in the form of ‘Touch Me’ is the closest to a rock-out you’re likely to see from this lot, however.

Hannon’s inter-song banter brings to mind Jarvis Cocker - each has a wit that works not only on record but also as stand-up. He lights a cigarette at one point, in a venue where no smoking signs are the only fly posters to be seen, while pointing out to the management: “It’s a prop.” Later on, he takes requests, but only from punters polite enough to put their hands up first. Then, when introducing the slow swinging ‘A Lady of a Certain Age’, Hannon warns: “This is our new single, so pull up a chair.”

Whilst the Divine Comedy may have peaked and troughed in the popularity charts over the last 16 years, Hannon appears to be on an even keel these days. If you liked the last one, then you can probably be sure that you’ll like the next one. If you didn’t, however, then there may not be too much for you here.

The Killers - 18 September - Camden Electric Ballroom, London

That this is one of those ‘competition winners’ gigs lends the evening an air of the phony. The Vodafone TBA series is so painfully made for TV that we’re encouraged to cheer an empty stage as loudly as possible “for the levels”, and discouraged from smoking or drinking “for compliance”. With the band taking the stage at 2000, without any support act, the fear is that this could be pretty artificial as nights out go. Try telling that to The Killers, however.

The four-piece play for a shade over an hour. Starting with the title track from the soon-to-be released ‘Sam’s Town’, a generally receptive audience patiently await something familiar. They need not wait too long, as U2-a-like new single, ‘When You Were Young’, erupts next, taking disciples and bystanders along with it. If the new album performs as well as multi-platinum predecessor ‘Hot Fuss’ did, then it could justifiably be on the strength of this track alone.

The band champ at the bit, with drummer Ronnie Vannucci’s gurning accentuating his ludicrous moustache, and guitarist Dave Keuning following suit with some classic Kiss facial contortions. Keuning’s trip to the microphone to boast of his “three best friends in the world” has the rest of the group looking on in wry amusement.

Frontman Brandon Flowers, however, has the crowd in his palm, stalking the stage and getting everyone going with his enthusiasm. Meanwhile, bassist Mark Stoermer masters his taller-than-all persona to perfection.

Backing new tracks that include ‘Bling’, ‘Uncle Johnny’ and ‘My List’, all of which should sound blistering at Glastonbury next year - you heard it here first - are stalwarts such as ‘Jenny Was A Friend of Mine’, ‘Mr Brightside’ and ‘Somebody Told Me’.

The band finish with ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’. The risk is that this gospel belter could prove to be a millstone around their neck. With other sing-a-long moments like ‘When You Were Young’, however, The Killers could soon find themselves spoiled for millstone choice.

Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah! - 7 July - The Forum, London

With a busy weekend of festivals looming, the timing of Friday’s Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! gig could have been better thought out. The Brooklyn five-piece played their biggest date in London so far, prior to heading to Scotland and Ireland for T in the Park and Oxegen appearances respectively.

The band seem to be conserving their energy, annoyingly, by shuffling aimlessly on stage at half past nine and carrying out their sound check in front of us as their opening number. The boys have a blistering eponymous debut album to show off, but they’re going to make us work for it – by testing our patience.

‘Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away’ opens proceedings and, despite an enthusiastic response from the audience, the band aren’t biting yet. It’s not until they play ‘Is This Love?’ 20 minutes later, followed by the euphoric ‘The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth’ that things move up several gears, the band starting to enjoy themselves as much as everyone else. The change is so drastic that the fear is that they may have peaked too quickly and too soon.

Such concerns are allayed, thankfully, with ‘Details of the War’ – the closest CYHSY have to a ballad (there’s even a lighter being waved about down the front)- going down a treat. A couple of new tracks are trotted out, which suggest the first album was no fluke. Indeed the band are so tight and up for it (at last), this must have been what it was like to see REM play in the early 80s. There’s nothing to say this lot can’t emulate such success.

Mention must be made of Alec Ounsworth’s yelping vocals, which are an acquired taste. Album opener and encore ‘Clap Your Hands!’ is a case in point but, like the runt of the litter, even the ugliest ones earn their own love.

The Feeling - 8 June 2006 - ULU, London

Okay. Quick question here - have I missed something?

Seriously. Is something passing me by? Because I hate to be left out.

The band in front of me, The Feeling, have been playing for what feels like 20 minutes, and they’re thanking us and saying goodnight.

The debut album ‘Twelve Steps and Home’ has garnered rave reviews of late - Q described it as “perfectly poised, knowingly urbane and slicker than a vaseline spillage,” while Observer Music Magazine awarded it ‘Album of the month.’

That The Feeling offer a return to soft rock (whether we like it or not) is well-known by now - as are the comparisons to Supertramp, Hall & Oates and 10CC.

What is seemingly ignored, however, is the sound of Eurovision washing over us here. This is like being at a high school prom - if we were American, of course.

Two top 10 singles (Sewn and Fill My Little World) suggest that the five-piece may be on to something. But then, choruses that go: “I love it when you call, I love it when you call, I love it when you call, but you never call at all,” belong at the bottom of the sea, if anywhere.

The question remains, then: Have I missed something?

Keane - 5 May 2006 - ULU, London

It’s almost exactly two years ago that Keane released their debut album ‘Hopes and Fears’ – an album that went on to sell over 4m copies worldwide. And the last time that the band played in the capital was for three consecutive nights at Brixton Academy. Tonight, 18 months later at ULU (capacity – 900), Keane are back, Back, BACK, and they’ve filled their boots.

After the most inauspicious of entrances (shuffle, shuffle, not so much as an “‘ello”), the three-piece trial most of their new album, ‘Under the Iron Sea’. For fear of boring the die-hards (the majority of people here are signed-up members of the Keane website), the band pepper the setlist with old reliables, including ‘Somewhere Only We Know,’ ‘Everybody’s Changing,’ and ‘Bedshaped.’

But it’s the new tracks that highlight what sounds like it must have been a tough time of late for the band. The word is ‘dark’ – or as singer Tom Chaplin puts it after the first couple of songs: “Welcome to the strange new world of Keane.” There’s a brooding menace to ‘Atlantic,’ while ‘Bad Dream,’ although hook-laden, suggests that the boys may have had a struggle on their hands at the time of writing this album. Interviews over the coming weeks might help shed some light on the matter.

More impressively, though, is the fact that these new songs feel fuller, stronger and more polished than the first album, which, when played live, always sounded - and looked - like a bit of help was needed. Could do with a guitar? Here’s a piano that sounds like one (‘Is It Any Wonder?’).

There are certainly some stories to be told about the writing of these new songs. But one thing is for certain – Keane’s boots are filled. If this album does as well as the last, then there’s plenty of time for you to fill yours.

Guillemots – 29 March 2006 – King’s College, London

If you’re going to call yourself Guillemots, then beware – there are going to be pretentious traps waiting for you around most, if not all, corners. This evening, however, this four-piece band, with an eye for the (feathered) birds, have a few tricks up their sleeve to slow the descent.

The set begins with all four walking through the audience blowing party horns and thrashing cowbells. Confused? Deep breath, dear, for before you know it, lead singer Fyfe Dangerfield is now on stage alone, singing ‘My Chosen One,’ a haunting star with echoes of Rufus Wainwright at his ‘Want One’ best.

Recent single ‘We’re Here,’ with its breezy Talk Talk-like refrain, also impresses. Indeed, the line “the world is our dancefloor” could be one of the most uplifting of 2006.

Other songs, like ‘Who Left the Lights On’ (a myspace favourite) and ’Train from Brazil’ (which gets the warmest reaction) back up this “we-might-be-on-to-something-with-this-lot” feeling.

The odd moment, however, specifically in encore track ‘She’s Evil,’ which is more noise than tune, confirm that rough edges remain, but, in time, we might be on to something with this lot.

We Are Scientists, Arctic Monkeys, Maxïmo Park - 17 February 2006 - Brixton Academy, London

This is the last night of the 2006 NME Awards Tour, and a packed – seemingly over-subscribed – Brixton Academy is in the mood for a belter from the off. Indeed, for many here, it looks like this could be their first gig-going experience, and these virgins are here for as much fun as they can possibly get.

We Are Scientists, however, appear to be in sombre mood. Taking to the stage to REM’s ‘Everybody Hurts’ is the first sign, followed by their announcement that “this is like a funeral for us.” Maybe the tour has taken its toll, maybe they’re homesick for the US. Or maybe it’s just a big, fat lie. ‘Inaction’ hits the crowd like a Nine Inch Nails screamer, while ‘Can’t Lose’, the first essential track of 2006, knocks doubters for six. The best word to describe this three-piece is unorthodox: with a bespectacled, moustachio’ed beanpole bassist and a bearded drummer who at times isn’t hitting to a time in anyone else’s head but his own, they look like a crash in a trailer park in the darkest recesses of the US. Little wonder, then, that they obscure their faces on the cover of album ‘With Love and Squalor’ with kittens – but, like I said, unorthodox. Meanwhile, with chief Arctic Monkey Alex Turner helping out on ‘Cash Cow’, and set closer ‘The Great Escape’ seeing the three-piece go ape, many here risk peaking too soon.

The level of excitement pre-Arctic Monkeys, therefore, isn’t almost palpable, it actually is palpable. Blah-blah, two number one singles, blah-blah, biggest selling UK debut album ever: but can they actually play as well? Erm, yes – and in spades. The immediacy of music in the 21st Century is clear to see when bands sell out five nights at Brixton after just one album (viz. Hard-Fi), but this Sheffield four-piece have rewritten the rule book, coming seemingly out of nowhere late last year. Number one, erm, number one ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ hits early, and to scenes of carnage. EVERYONE is going spare. Turner invites the crowd to take over for second chart-topper ‘When the Sun Goes Down’ and strums one chord – the rest is choir-like. Chuck in drumming that wouldn’t look out of place in the voodoo scenes from ‘Live and Let Die’ during ‘All You People are Vampires’ and we are in the presence of something genuinely thrilling. One complaint – no ‘Mardy Bum’? Shame to miss the opportunity to hear lyrics like “I’m sorry I was late, but I missed the train and then the traffic was a state” in the live arena.

The bar’s been raised for Maxïmo Park, then. But cometh the hour, cometh the band. This Newcastle five-piece could rightly claim 2005 as their own, with a bombastic debut album and a Mercury Music nomination. Can we expect more in 2006, especially with new pretenders like the aforementioned Scientists and Monkeys snapping at their heels? Maybe in sales terms, Maxïmo Park have to bow to the Arctic Monkeys, but as a live proposition, the Geordies remain in a league of their own. Lead singer Paul Smith positively howls between spitting his words out, and leaps around like a man possessed – an audience which has already been spoiled tonight, however, follows suit, especially during favourites like ‘Grafitti’ and ‘Apply Some Pressure’. The airing of a new track, ‘A Fortnight’s Time’ suggests that there’s more to come in 2006. Now, how much fun is that going to be for you newly-christened gig-goers?

The Strokes - 24 January 2006 - Shepherd's Bush Empire, London

It wasn’t that long ago that artists were challenged by the difficult third album syndrome. Nowadays, of course, it’s the second album that tends to cause them most problems. So, pity The Strokes, then, who appear to have made it harder for themselves by being cursed with both. ‘Room On Fire’, released three years ago, had critics, eager for more of the same - following barnstorming debut ‘Is This It?’ - mercilessly slating them. This year’s ‘First Impressions of Earth’ was hailed by some as a return to form. Oh, how wrong they were, and tonight serves only as confirmation.

In a muddy, bass-heavy mix, in which the vocals are barely an oversight, the band greet a rapturous crowd prepared to give them the benefit of the doubt… so long as they play all of their debut album and little else. You’ll be lucky, you lookey-likeys in your drainpipes and school blazers.

It’s not until third song ‘Juicebox’ (a song destined to soundtrack car chases for years to come) that the band seem to hit their stride, all five of them finally giving it some. What many consider to be cool has until now looked more like laziness. With drummer Fabrizio Moretti able to smoke a cigarette while still pounding the skins, either he’s The Man, or he just can’t be chewed. ‘The End Has No End’, from ‘Room On Fire’, sums the Strokes up, however. A pedestrian stroll through the track, and we are witnessing a band that has lost its relevance. Their first album really mattered, but a stumbling block like their second makes the third even more important. Shouldn’t they at least be trying?

Of course, the evening does have its high points. ‘Last Night’ pulls the crowd back onside. And ‘Hard To Explain’ finally gets the band the reaction they deserve. First encore ‘New York City Cops’ almost ram-raids the walls down.

Guess which one of the three albums they’re all on…

Coldplay – 14 December 2005 – Earl’s Court 1, London

This summer, Coldplay went on a jolly jaunt around several stadia in the UK. Shortly afterwards, Chris Martin claimed that the band wasn’t yet ready to boast the moniker “a stadium band.” So, what better way to back away from this claim, than to play the 18,000-capacity enormodome that is Earl’s Court? Guys, this is a stadium with a roof. This might have been their year, but there’s still some pressure here.

Not that you’d notice, with the band clearly thrilled to be home. As a giant clock behind them counts down towards zero, Coldplay open up with ‘Square One’, the clock hitting zero exactly as the chorus blasts off. ‘Politik’, obviously, just explodes over the throng. A quick recognition that they’re back in their favourite city, and ‘Yellow’ is then sung back with such vigour that Chris Martin is positively drowned out. Throw in a sea of huge yellow (clever) balloons, and the band can do no wrong in these infrequent gig-going, “let’s-leave-early-to-miss-the-traffic,” thirty-something couples’ eyes.

‘Speed of Sound’ showcases Will Champion’s ‘Hounds of Love’-like drumming, while Martin gets in some Bez dancing to ‘White Shadows’. Things drop a gear for an acoustic set which includes the best bonus track of the year, ‘Til Kingdom Come’, and a cover of Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ (Why did his family veto the haemorrhoids advert?).

Normal full-on service is resumed, however, with a group wig-out on ‘Clocks’, while encore ‘In My Place’ drums up a choir-like wail from all and sundry. Set-closer ‘Fix You’, with that lightbulb, sums up perfectly what problem playing a place like this presents. Short on gimmicks (it is, after all, just a lightbulb), it’s always going to be a challenge for any band to fill this massive space. As they showed at Koko in June, bigger doesn’t necessarily mean better for Coldplay. Swallow your pride, but Brixton would have been perfect tonight.