The War on Drugs

Venue:

Royal Albert Hall

Date: 11/07/2024

Some gigs give you what you expect. Others disappoint. Very occasionally, a gig leaps out at you, puts its arm around you and says, ‘Come with me, I’ve got something to show you.’

This was my third attempt to see The War on Drugs; Covid and a busted leg prevented the previous two; and it was at one of my favourite venues, The RAH.

Parked up at Imperial College, as usual; fed and watered upstairs at Verdi, as usual; I took my excellent seat well in time for support act, The Clientele.

Pleasant chord changes and a lovely-sounding cello but that was it for the positives. Ramshackle, out of tune, fey vocals, zero engagement and looking like they’d rather be anywhere else; if you start a song singing over your own guitar, with the capo on the wrong fret, sorry but you look way out of your depth. In a year’s time, if I read their name somewhere, I guarantee I’ll have forgotten that I’ve seen them.

The main act, the seven-piece from Philly, arrive on stage in the middle of Donna Summer’s State of Independence, spot on the advertised time. It is obvious during the first few songs that they cannot quite believe where they are, let alone that the’ve sold the old place out for two nights. The setlist for the previous nights in Belfast, Dublin and Liverpool has changed every night but tonight Adam Granduciel, the band’s leader, singer and guitarist has packed it with heavy-hitters.

Eyes to the Wind, Baby Missiles and Pain launch the two-hour show with a feeling that I gather is a tactic which Adam learned from Springsteen ; wind the set up like winding up an elastic band.

In between songs, as well as multiple guitar-changes, Adam voiced his amazement that they were playing ‘Albert Hall.’ As a student of great music he would be well aware of the history which seeps through the walls of the dressing rooms and corridors back stage and he kept looking up at the tiers of happy faces as fans were caught in the lights.

By the time the setlist got to Red Eyes and a spectacular upgrade in the light show kicked in, the band and audience were as one. The Arena area was a sea of arms, bobbing heads and phones while all around me in the seats close to the side of the stage, people were swaying, hypnotised by the throbbing beat of drummer Charlie Hall, the layers of keyboards and the alto-sax of Jon Natchez.

As the intensity increased, and Red Eyes morphed into Strangest Thing, somebody flicked an imaginary switch. Six rows in front of me, in Stalls G, Row 1, Seat 1, was a Buster Bloodvessel lookalike, well oiled, in a shirt straining to contain his bulk. As the intro to a huge cover of Tom Petty’s Long Road hit hard, Buster was on his feet, beer in his raised hand and turning to us behind him as he sang every word looking for all the world like he should have been at the Euros, supporting England. And then came Up All Night.

The distinctive beat which opens the song had all of us out of our seats, swaying, dancing, smiling, delirious. In the pit, people were on each other’s shoulders, looking like some giant creature from the deep emerging through a sea of arms.

A brief respite for an acoustic Buenos Aires Beach……..

And then Adam let go of that elastic band and all hell broke loose.

Under the Pressure is the song which, for many, is the bedrock of The War on Drugs. Track One, Side One of 2014’s Lost In The Dream, it means so much to so many. As the intro chimes out a roar greets it. Buster is urging anyone who isn’t already on their feet to rise and join the congregation and I realise that the floor beneath me is bouncing. At the breakdown in the middle of the song the crowd starts singing the guitar riff, a noise which seems to roll around the tiers like the roar ahead of an avalanche until, when Charlie slams his see-through Ludwig kit and the lights explode, the band and audience are as one in a maelstrom of euphoria. I’ve never experienced it outside of a Springsteen gig.

Like all the best highs, you need to come down gently. I Don’t Live Here Anymore is the perfect change of pace before slowing again into Occasional Rain. I thought Adam was going to miss me out but he didn’t and, as the first chord of Thinking of a Place; my song; rang out, I whooped with delight.

In the row in front of me a young couple look deep into each other’s eyes, him enveloping her in his arms as they sway to their song. Beside me a 68 year old Dad fist bumps his thirty year-old son; this is their band, their music.

And then it’s over. Adam shouts, ‘You’ve been amazing, see you tomorrow night.’ And they’re gone.

A wonderful, hot, sweaty night inside the old place with three thousand of my people.

Nothing beats it.

The audience:

From teens to pensioners, incredibly.

It made me think..

I bloody love live music.

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