Author: Crossfire

Bristol Academy
17/02/08

Photo © Cesar Sebastian

I can shout.

The day was Sunday. For many this particular day of the week is one to be spent in a serene state of rest; at ease from the world and its bulging pocket full of adversity. Some may wish to spend a little extra on newspapers so they can read those escapist stories, with photos of beautiful people that are printed on the slightly shinier paper. Then sit around achieving nothing except the silent cries of joy from everyone’s taste buds as they relentlessly gorge upon little molecules of tea, and enormous morsels of a roast dinner, all encouraged by whatever lazy sod is in control of the fork. Yes, the Sabbath is a very strange day indeed. Normally associated with colours such as yellow, or overjoyed dandelion, if we’re talking Strictly Come Dulux.

I said I can shout.

So, on this holy day, I rested. By rested, I of course mean that I wiggled my way across the beer stained floors of Bristol Academy, being furiously squashed by people with interesting tee shirts, being blinded by a shining white pair of perpendicular lines, surrounded by the glittering lights of electronic heavens and having my ears pierced by bass loud enough to create a rift in time, all the while lifting my skinny fists up high, towards two nodding graphic designers from a snail devouring tribe across some body of water, who as masters of puppets, yanked on the strings of our limbs and made us dance militantly to soul crushing beats. The day was Sunday, and I fucking rested.

You don’t have to shout at me.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen those French wizards play. So based on previous encounters alone, my hopes were painfully high. Surely there was only a limited number of ways in which these songs can be mixed together? As the crowd hush and the opening roar of the most aptly titled track in the world, Genesis fights its way out from beneath those stacked Marshall speakers, it brought with it an overwhelming aura of deja-vu. Then, in a total nonchalant, ‘oh, what just happened‘ fashion, Gaspard Auge and Xavier De Check-Out-How-Fucking-Badass-My-Name-Is-And-Chill mutilate the already dislocated basslines into something you couldn’t even fathom, let alone expect to sound as powerfully good as it did. With the purring introduction of Phantom creeping in at every other bar, the crowd’s momentum levels were filling up like an energy drink induced Brandon Biebel. And at that precise moment, you know the one, where that funky riff comes in that makes you punch your fist, at this exact moment, the sound is lost. Poof. Gone. Vanished. Just like anyone’s credibility when they mention Scientology.

OK, well stop making me then-

Everyone in the crowd is now totally flaccid. This sort of thing should never, ever happen. For the first time ever, I think a hint of worry was evident in the eyes of Justice, yet that prominent cross was still shining away, like some extended metaphor for hope, or something. Piercing through the tension, ever so slowly, was the unmistakable riff I was talking about, but not in a way that makes you punch your fist, no, no. More of a way of, ever-so-gently turning everyone’s smile into that of an ecstasy fuelled Cheshire cat. And when the Phantom finally does reveal itself in all its bass-so-good-I-just-shat-myself glory, well, I think I just explained it, didn’t I? Redemption was achieved, and the crowd were now at the mercy of two DJs, and whatever noises emerged from those speakers.

I’m getting louder with you.

I could go into detail about every perfect pick ‘n’ mix made on this Sabbath night, but I’m sure you’ll grow weary of that, and lets face it, can my nose actually get any browner while writing this review? It’s a case of Pinocchio gone tits up here. Basically (yeah), this set was truly mind blowing. With every tour, these two hopefuls are maturing into the biggest dance music pioneers this side of the millennium, and that’s a very safe statement to make. To even consider slowing down the Waters of Nazareth, practically separating them in some mad Exodus re-enactment, and then blasting the vocoded bliss of The Fallen remix over the top is a decision that surely only mentally unstable people could make. Yet to do it without batting an eyelid, simultaneously sucking on a huge ‘Fuck you smoking ban, I can do whatever the fuck I like‘ statement, and actually make Bristol architecture shake and bounce, bounce, bounce that ass, then let them do it. Two encores wasn’t nearly enough. Stadium tours in no time, surely.

This is the excuse; let these puppet masters raise your skinny fists like antennas to whatever is really up there beyond those glittering skies. It’s worth whatever you’re paying.

Joe Moynihan

Brixton Academy
18.02.08

The last time Jimmy Eat World did a headline show in London was in March 2005, having deserted us for a criminally long time to record, and mix…then remix again, their new album.

Luckily for them, and their fans, their latest offering ‘Chase This Light’ was well worth the wait, and tonight’s sold out show at Brixton Academy proves that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.

Swinging onto stage at 9pm precisely the four piece throw them into their latest single ‘Big Casino’, a track they showcased at their double Reading slot this year, and which has been honed into big riff perfection. As they slide into ‘Sweetness‘ its clear the band are on cruise control – seamlessly winding from track to track, picking and choosing from crowd favourites like ‘Futures‘ and new material, like upcoming single ‘Always Be’ , and lesser known gems like ‘Disintegration‘, taken from their EP ‘Stay on My Side‘ – with Adkins spitting out the bitter line ‘Lie, lie, better next time‘. Guitarist Tom Linton takes over vocal duties for ‘Blister‘, reminding us how good as frontman he can be with a wry grin.

The crowd tonight is on fine vocal form too, and almost every line is sung back work perfect. Adkins trades vocals Linton throughout, layering harmonies over swaying guitars. ‘Bleed American‘ (aka Salt, Sweat, Sugar) brings the crowd to fever pitch – but it’s swiftly followed by the downbeat ‘For Me This Is Heaven‘. As the lyrics ‘Can you still feel the butterflies?’ drifts over the stage, there’s a moment of calmness over the crowd, which is swiftly slapped aside by the angry, hate laden vibes, crunching guitars with heavy bass, with the band toying with our senses every moment of the night. The lighting tonight slashes through the crowds, heightening emotions for every track, with glittering ropes as a back drop giving a Matrix style feel to the proceedings. Their live version of ‘23‘ is simply sublime, and we’re also treated to ‘Hear You Me‘ and a new version of ‘Your House’ – where Adkins smiles benignly as he sighs the lines ‘ And I know what happens, when we get to your house…you rip my heart right out, you rip my heart…right out.”

With ‘Chase This Light‘ Jimmy Eat World have totally come into their own, it brings a new found maturity backed up with tracks that thankfully haven’t lost their pop punk, sing-along anthems but don’t lapse into saccharine sweet drivel. Christ Testa and John Field’s slick production, coupled with Chris Lord Alge’s mixes have raised the bar with an eclectic mix of rock, emo , indie and everything in between and it’s easy to see how these guys have influenced so many of the middle America bands we’re hearing nowadays.

The set tonight is professional and slick and punchy- taking the audience by the collar on a rollercoaster of emotions. As they close the set with anthem ‘The Middle‘ there are smiles all round. Jimmy Eat World leave you on a total high that still has the crowd smiling, even when they realise the Victoria line’s closed already and it’s a long way home….

Dee Massey

Jimmy Eat World play The Roundhouse on March 3rd 2008
For further info check out www.jimmyeatworld.net for further info and tour dates.