‘Romance’ at Rush Hour: Fontaines D.C. affirm their class with mellowed matinee
With the Great North Run looming about as large as the 7ft human obstacle kindly stood in front of me, the pledge to stay sober at the Fontaines D.C. album launch show in order to be in peak physical running shape was steadily waning. Of course, I could’ve just shuffled to my left and escaped this burly view-blocker, but that would’ve meant entering the midst of a large gabble of students, who, liberated by lack of employment, had clearly started drinking at about noon… last Thursday.
Naturally, as I mulled over this predicament, the first blaring notes of ‘Romance’ made themselves known. And nine pints later, I was back at the students’ ‘afters’, telling them about how I saw My Bloody Valentine in 2008 for £13, and Lee Bowyer was in the audience. Or at least that’s how things might have panned out if it wasn’t the matinee performance that I’d weaved myself into.
This was the first time I’d been to such a show. Fontaines D.C. were due to play a set beginning at 7pm, and a second show at 9pm. I had mixed and myriad thoughts. They began with conjecture over which show would likely be better, stretched to wondering about whether this was a commercialised move that commodified concerts or just a savvy way to open shows up to a wider audience with differing bedtimes and sensibilities and concluded with musings about how a short passage of time might make the same set wildly different.
Alas, as the booming distortion of the great bass drop of ‘Romance’ rang out around The Boiler Shop, in quite a spooky manner, and the late summer sun still streaked through the window, I was firmly onboard with this new format of concerting and rather happily vowed that it wouldn’t derail my sober preparation for the Great North Run. Upbeat but evidently fresh from work, the bulk of the audience, beyond the rowdy rabble at the front, seemed to agree.
So, how did the new songs go over in this more mellowed, daylight atmosphere? Well, the honeyed atmosphere of The Boiler Shop made it very clear just how good the new songs are. Romance is still effectively a newborn. Yet the anthems had an established and timeless quality that did nothing to deter their ineffable freshness and modernity—that’s surely a very good sign. And it was the songs that did the talking.
The Dublin band have never been the sort to inflate a concert beyond what they’re playing. A goldfish could retain the words exchanged with the audience in its memory, and the pyrotechnics department are on indefinite leave. Despite the lavish new outfits, there is still a slight shyness to the group, who all presently reside around 29 years old. This disposition allows the band to deliver when it comes to the integrity of their tunes. And from the sped-up old classic of ‘Boys in the Better Land’ to ever-growing charm of ‘In the Modern World’, they delivered a performance that certainly showcased how Romance will further their legacy.
Then it ended. ‘Starbuster’ came to a close, a brief “thank you, Newcastle” was uttered and they shuffled off the stage to nibble a half-time orange and have a team talk. They had played ten tracks in 45 minutes exactly. Literally, 13 minutes later, I was back home with a cuppa in my hand, once again mulling over the virtues of a matinee.
Perhaps if you’d travelled an hour and queued for 15 minutes to get in, then you might be miffed, but for £14.50 (or £17.99 for a gig ticket + CD bundle or £32.99 for a clear vinyl + gig ticket), the whole thing felt like an amicable, breezy and equitable way to see and support one of the hottest new bands of the moment—a stark contrast to, inevitable mentioned ahoy, a certain commercial reunion grabbing the headlines at the moment. So, with the tea still warm in its cup, it’s rather easy to reconcile that here lie the new wholesome, progressive face of indie.
