THE 1975 / PALE WAVES / NO ROME | LIVE REVIEW
Motorpoint Arena Cardiff, Mon 14 Jan
With an increasing international profile in recent years, The 1975 have fostered a reputation for coupling casually philosophical lyrics with polished pop prowess. Embarking on a UK tour in promotion of the rather ambitiously-titled A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships, the Mancunian headliners arrive in Cardiff, with the Motorpoint Arena’s ample scale accommodating the quartet’s stadium-pleasing renown and mass of devotees.
Manila-based one-man outfit No Rome provided initial support, delivering a string of smooth chillwave tracks – poolside melodies that invited a degree of sun-drenched warmth to proceedings, despite garnering an icier reaction from the half-empty arena.
Pale Waves’ strain of synth-soaked heartland rock brought feelgood luminosity to a venue that seems intended for the four-piece’s brand of nostalgia-bathed gravitas. Heather Baron-Gracie’s yearning vocals weave through shimmering keys and tight guitar-driven material, recalling a late-80s sound indebted to the output of Belinda Carlisle, Heart and Stevie Nicks. Glistening renditions of One More Time and There’s A Honey were effusively received from concertgoers, with the band’s up-and-coming status evident in the propulsive charm of their work.
The 1975 enter to roars of reverberating adoration, a response befitting a band currently riding the crest of a wave. Opening with the confessional refrains of Give Yourself A Try, Matt Healy’s buoyant stage presence fizzes with charm and zeal, candidly engaging with a fanbase familiar with his every syllable. A series of rousing anthems such as She’s American command the abundant attention of a predominantly teen and twenty-something audience, inducing an almost dazed reverence, with the loudest cheers reserved for Love It If We Made It and the technicolour vivacity of Girls.
Glowing pastel-hued visuals frame the band in buoyant moments, while a treadmill often transferred Healy, and his mercurial energy, across the stage. A sea of smartphones greet the power balladry of Be My Mistake, a slow-burning acoustic number that served to temper an overwhelmingly high-octane set. Sex and its strobe-immersed climax closed the five-song encore with a raucous crescendo, a suitable finale to a relentlessly high-spirited performance.
words CHRIS HAMILTON-PEACH photos JORDAN CURTIS HUGHES