Kaiser Chiefs, Black Kids, Esser – Nottingham Trent FM Arena, Sunday February 22.
If so-called “wonky pop” is a genre which we’re going to have to start taking seriously, then at least Esser makes a better fist of it than most of 2009’s crop of eager young hopefuls. (You know the ones: all shiny new record contracts, “directional” hairdos and over-zealous image consultants.) Stylistically, he was all over the place, cheerfully plundering anything that took his fancy from pop’s last three decades. Performance-wise, he didn’t let the crowd’s polite indifference stand in the way of putting on a confident, mostly convincing show.
Following appearances at the Rescue Rooms in June and Trent University in October, Black Kids found themselves in town for a third time, on their biggest stage yet. Although not exactly a natural arena act, their set scaled up better than might have been expected – especially given the rough edges that were on display just a few months ago. A little more variety in tone and pace would have served them well, but it’s still relatively early days for this cheerful and likeable band, whose well-executed indie-pop did a fine job of warming the arena up for the main attraction.
Given the disappointing performance of their third album, and the complete commercial failure of their last single, you might expect the Kaiser Chiefs to be feeling the strain by now. But when it comes to staging a crowd-pleasing show in a major venue, their status as one of this country’s most popular and effective live acts remains unassailable.
Bounding onto the stage in a haze of thick smoke, singer Ricky Wilson began his performance at full tilt, and barely dropped it down a notch for the full ninety minutes. A series of little posing platforms had been placed around the front and the sides of the stage, allowing him to give full expression to his exhibitionist urges. Occasionally, he would scale one of the lighting rigs, in order to dangle precariously above the capacity crowd. Towards the end of the main set, he darted into the wings and re-emerged moments later at the rear of the hall, perched on a slightly larger platform and bellowing his key message: “We are the Kaiser Chiefs!”
For while their detractors might find them smug and shallow, the whole essence of the Kaiser Chiefs is optimistic, celebratory, inclusive – and yes, unashamedly self-glorifying. Their songs might be peppered with clever lyrical twists here and there – but when all’s said and done, they’re not exactly the deepest songs in the world. Indeed, many of their most popular numbers – Ruby, Never Miss A Beat, Oh My God – scarcely seem to be about anything at all, barring a vague cynicism about the hollowness of modern life which sometimes teeters on the brink of outright sneering. As such, they make perfect anthems for 10,000 eager souls to roar along to – stabbing their fists in the air and having the time of their lives, but without ever needing to engage with the music on a deeper emotional level.
Subtle as a flying mallet they may be, but the Kaiser Chiefs – and the excitable Mr. Wilson in particular – are masters of giving their followers exactly what they want: punchy stadium anthems, delivered with precision and panache. Depending on your point of view, last night’s show was either a headache-inducing pantomime of empty gestures, or a belting, barn-storming and brilliant night out.
Every Day I Love You Less And Less
Everything Is Average Nowadays
Heat Dies Down
You Want History
Good Days Bad Days
Na Na Na Na Naa
Love’s Not A Competition (But I’m Winning)
Like It Too Much
Half The Truth
Never Miss A Beat
I Predict A Riot
Take My Temperature
The Angry Mob
Tomato In The Rain
Thank You Very Much
Oh My God