Idlewild

Forget for a moment the two most recent 'grown-up' albums - performances like this say far more about how Idlewild have changed. Almost exactly five years ago in this same bastion of primary coloured corporate glee, Idlewild's knowing, rambunctious noise set a crowd of fans pogoing across the store. A few of the same faces are here tonight but the pace is markedly different, and this time the only discernable movement is the synchronised nodding of heads from front to back.

Idlewild haven't abandoned loudness and strong guitars - it's just that the crescendoes spill slowly and deliberately over the stage, rather than exploding in a biro-scrawled, badly photocopied fanzine spazz. Even the bratty 'When I Argue I See Shapes', the one song of the set that one does wish they'd let rip and play at breakneck speed, has aged gracefully. Roddy Woomble's solemn, inimitable vocals wrap the song in a sense of elegance and restraint that would never have infiltrated 'Camp Idlewild' back in the day(TM), and the familiar chaotic coda becomes a orderly weave of harmonised, synchronised voices rather than the _"SHAPES!!" squall of yesteryear.

Where other bands took up the yoke and wearily ploughed the Radio 2 furrow as their initial fire flickered and faded, and despite their slower direction in recent years, Idlewild have held the grinning spectre of M.O.R firmly at bay. By doing so they have maintained their identity. Admittedly, that identity now combs its hair, calls it a night after three drinks and is heartily fond of 'a nice tune' but Idlewild's idiosyncratic edge still clings confidently to the starry-eyed likes of 'Love Steals Us From Loneliness'. They may have settled down, but they haven't given in.