Confidence Man: reflecting a newfound affinity for fun in music
Not enough poems are written about English winters. The grey mist and ice might be uninspiring to most, but plenty can be seen once you shine a light on these dark nights. The weather is nothing surprising; for years, decades, and centuries, the clouds have remained grey, and the temperature has been freezing. It is unhospitable and horrid, and yet, as the world keeps spinning, life continues, and the spirit of the people cannot be kept down. Even in the seasonal downward spiral that seems to affect so many during these months, the good times will always protrude, as music is for listening and dancefloors are for dancing.
You can deny the beauty in frost all you want, but you can’t remove it from the fact that on this cold November night, the streets of Sheffield are lined with people who want nothing more than to move their feet and have a laugh. The world outside is moody and glum, but The Octagon is transportive, as Confidence Man brings their extravagant, performance-heavy live show to the Steel City.
A pint of Madri is £6, and the atmosphere is heavy. A heat fills the venue, one of the taboo conversations, breathless dancers and sweaty foreheads. The music that Confidence Man makes is perfect for dancing to, and that’s exactly what everyone does, whether they are on the front row or stoop to the side: arms wave, and two steps ensue as onlookers are swept up in the gig’s undeniable fun.
The duo represent something that can clearly be seen in modern music, a delightful shift in audiences and sound: We are living in an age of theatre. While Confidence Man’s music is good enough that the mere sound alone would be enough to draw in crowds, they aren’t happy stopping at that. Instead, they fill their sets with choreographed dance routines, costume changes and interludes of DJ sets, creating an evening with excellent music and an engaging stage presence.
If you ever wanted proof that this is what the people want, you only need to look at the crowd. They’re the most beautifully inconsistent bunch of people. You have veteran rave-goers on one end of the scale and 50-year-old gig-lovers on the other, and neither of them look out of place. From the scantily clad to the wrapped-up and warm, everyone in the crowd is welcome, unified in dance moves and a sea of whoops that follow as Confidence Man does backflips and dance moves to every song of theirs perfectly.
They aren’t the only band doing this, either. They’re one of the best, sure, but a lot of musical outfits these days seem to subscribe to the idea that their gigs need to be more than just music. There is a great deal of theatre added to performances, whether that’s in their light show, the way that they act on stage or the way they dress; there is an active extension of the gig format, embracing the chance to both play great music but also have fun and be silly in the process.
Confidence Man’s rise to success and newfound notoriety as one of the best live acts on the planet represents something that will always be the case but has never been more prevalent than now: We just want to have fun! With our access to world events and the state of things looking gloomier and gloomier, can you really be surprised at the public’s affinity for Confidence Man and this newfound affinity for fun in art?
The night outside in Sheffield is cold, but people can experience escapism in motion by entering that venue. Its live performance is at its peak, simultaneously punk and pop, in its willingness to keep smiling and being silly in a world full of things that demand that you do the opposite. Lights and sweat fill the room like epiphanies make a troubled mind, and when it’s over, we re-enter the cold streets of English winter, changed but not really.
