Everything Everything at the O2 Academy
“But I’m coming alive” at an Everything Everything gig
“Wait, we’re in the small venue?” The realisation the Lumineers, the other sold out gig that night, would be in the main room at the Liverpool O2 Academy and would therefore trump Everything Everything was not a happy one. However, the cramped nature of the second room only served to focus Liverpool’s falsetto in on frontman Jonathan Higgs, as they played an hour and a half set spanning both their albums.
It’s quite difficult to define Everything Everything’s genre, particularly when they begin with an ethereal, stripped-down version of Leave the Engine Room – bordering on hymn – then heading straight into their most recent single, Kemosabe, a weird mixture of oriental-inspired riffs, sung over by a barbershop quartet, and then throwing in a few synths for good measure.
Their set was music-heavy, with little talk in between songs. By putting their two albums side by side, it only proved to show their differences, noting a move toward an integrated musical “sound”, rather than opposing instruments battling it out for precedence, as was the tendency of their debut.
The main set ended with Cough Cough (evidently a favourite of the WKD swigging girls in front proved by thrusting their plastic glasses in the air, threatening to drown us in sugar). Ironically, for a song about hesitation, the set ended confidently, and the band left the stage grinning, not for a second pretending they wouldn’t be back for an encore, which consisted of three songs, including My Kz, Ur Bf, notable in its absence from the initial set.
Stood on Hotham Street afterwards, the discussion ranged from what the perfect post-gig meal would be (apparently peanut butter and pasta) to how good the past couple of hours had been, the general consensus agreeing that it was musically perfect, and the crowd were on the whole genuinely appreciative, rather than full of posers trying to gain acceptance from their peers.
The only issue was the lack of interaction with the crowd, the only chat involving the drawing of the £1 fish man on their guitar case, but everything everything (I KNOW, TRY AND STOP THE PUNS) ought to be forgiven when you consider this band doesn’t sell itself on what could easily be marketed as hipster fodder, but instead forgoes Shoreditch in favour of touring nationwide, and recording Radio 6 sessions.