NME Awards Tour, 01.02.09, Carling Academy

Arriving a little late to the gig, due to rowdy football fans causing riot’s on the streets of Newcastle, Florence and the Machine are already in full swing. It’s easy to tell this is not your classical indie act it’s obvious from the second you see the stage, not a guitar insight, instead a harp and a stage set-up that is almost theatrical.
From Florence’s quirky clothes to her cappella voice you can tell why she’s shot to fame and bagged a performance slot at the BRIT awards. Her songs are elaborately arranged with a mixture of vocals and instrumental parts with a hint of eccentricity, which makes her different from her contemporaries. When “kiss with a fist” kicks in you see Florence’s love of performing as she twirls around on stage and works up frenzy in the crowd. When the final song “dog days are over” ends, Florence dances off stage leaving everyone wanting just a bit more.
White Lies are the second band on and after their recent success of a number 1 album you could tell expectations were going to be high. White Lies influences are fairly easy to cite such as Joy Division, Interpol and Editors with the lead singer often compared to the likes of Ian Curtis and Julian Cope due to his singing style. The band is on form tonight; still on a high from there number one hit they play a perfect set. Almost a bit too perfect, from their matching black shirts and serious faces every chord and vocal is expertly placed.
Barely a word is spoken to the audience and few exchanges are made between the band as there is almost an unspoken agreement that no charades are needed, just the music. This is all too clear when dark tones of “to lose my life” begin. Throughout the gig it was hard not to be captivated by the lead singer’s, Harry McVeigh, voice with the somber drone of it that could almost cause a shiver. They round of the gig with “death”, intense and in true White Lies style - flawless.
Review by Ann-Marie Loughney

Seconds after White Lies had, sadly, departed the stage; a shy foursome slinked on to set up for the next act. Quicker, and more efficient than most, these mysterious, downward-gazing roadies, were off again in as many seconds. Leaving only disco balls in a glittering heap next to a single, also glittering, drum and a keyboard that looked like the control panel of a spaceship (or at least how I would imagine one of those to look like). The bright lights dimmed to flickers and a soft cheer rumbled through the crowd, swiftly turning into hushed confusion as the same foursome appeared again. This time with dance moves. These were Friendly Fires.
They introduced themselves in the first line of their opener ‘Photobooth’. Instantly all eyes were fixed on the front man Ed MacFarlane. Bounding, gliding and snake-hipping his way across the stage, in somehow perfect harmony with the electric rock hybrid beats screaming out of their instruments, he was riotous and captivating with a voice which was both joyful and desperate. It is impossible to fight the urge to dance for the full 37minute set, their sound is unique and spunky but with influences of Prince and Chic. Their closeness as a band – together for four years now – is notable, the occasional hair-ruffling, and the odd look of mutual admiration; basically they looked like they were having just as much, if not more, fun as the heaving crowd. Closing with their biggest hit to date ‘Paris’, synthetic and thoughtful, proves to be an electric end to an electric show and as Friendly Fires say their thank yous and goodbyes politely, they can be safe in the knowledge that they have shown their potential to be the band to watch this year…just don’t stare at the disco balls for too long.
Headliners Glasvegas left the crowd waiting, still hyper and rowdy from the previous acts, for a little too long. Finally appearing to excitable cheers, dressed all in black and with solemn expressions, they aren’t the most cheerful of bands we’ve seen tonight but when ‘Geraldine’ kicks off the set comes alight and James Allen’s’ broad Glaswegian vocals echo around the room. After a Number 1 album, expectations were high and thick in the air and, at times, they didn’t disappoint. ‘Daddy’s Gone’ in particular was epic. Moving and emotional, the crowds singing along to the whole chorus solo, it was eerie and excellent.
However, apart from a strange moment where the bassist appeared to be playing the keyboard on a skateboard, the rest of their performance wasn’t quite so captivating. Although the band was musically tight, the booming stadium-rock choruses were similar on every song and – no offence to the Scots – the heavy accent made the lyrics almost impossible to follow. At times they almost become too powerful and the drum beats (from an upright black-haired lady) and scratchy guitars shook the room a little too hard, drowning out the melodies certain to be underneath. Their sound is certainly quite original and made them a success of 2008 but the telling of Glasvegas will come with their second album, perhaps just listen to them on CD until then.
Overall, NME put on a good show. A quirky, exciting and complementary selection of bands, some good, some greater, and everyone went out dancing and humming into the snow.
Review by Hannah Tomlinson