Live Photos: Phoenix O2 Academy, Brixton
There’s something special about London in the winter. The place glistens with history and retells the tales of Charles Dickens down every cobbled street. Well, at least that’s what Instagram will tell you. While a fragment of life in the city can be dressed up as something beguiling and Dickensian, the reality is that London is a lot of things during the winter months, but the one thing it always is – is wet. Very wet. That was certainly the case when indie legends Phoenix rolled into town for their only UK appearance in the promotion of their new album Alpha Zulu.
The streets of Brixton were quickly turned into lakes with a downpour that seemed to last longer than most of Phoenix’s contemporaries. But while bikes turned into jet skis, cars became dinghies, and buses became the scourge of every pavement-dwelling pedestrian trying to avoid an unnecessary extra soaking, Phoenix, true to their name, decided to light the stage on fire with a pulsating set of indie bangers.
Opening the evening were Sons of Raphael, a quasi-Yeah Yeah Yeahs duo who delivered a blended mix of laptop-produced beats with visceral garage guitars. It’s the kind of set-up that would destroy their own stage but leave a set of (very wet) Londoners looking on with curiosity. Perhaps not because the music was off-piste but because they hadn’t arrived at Brixton Academy for much newness. The majority of the crowd were here for one thing and one thing only: nostalgia.
That crowd was quickly appeased when the first murmurs of Phoenix began to take the stage. Backed by a truly inspirational digital set which pinged and ponged along with the music, the band arrived equipped to warm us all up and dry us off with a hefty dose of pure, unadulterated dancing. What song would the band start with to get the party started? ‘Lisztomani’, perhaps the band’s second-most famous song, would kick off proceedings and have the crowd swaying in delight immediately.
What would follow was a smattering of new songs from the recent record Alpha Zulu and a selection of old favourites. The titular ‘Alpha Zuu’ would prove the best of the bunch of the former, while the first encore of ‘Telefono / Fior di latte’, sung singularly with just a harpsichord, would render the entirety of the crowd speechless.
Of course, the group would finish off proceedings with perhaps their most beloved song, and one that will likely define the band (and a generation) after we’re all gone. ‘1901’ remains the group’s most famous track, and for good reason, it can turn a set of depressed city-dwellers into a gleeful, bouncing group of newfound friends, each enjoying the majesty of hearing their favourite song live one more time.
The finality of the song allowed the audience to brace the winds and wet streets of London with a little more optimism, a lot more swagger and the warming glow of a night well spent.
