Anathallo

If a support act’s main role is merely to warm up the audience then the Chicago seven-piece are the worst possible choice. Before a single note is played they garner attention and wonderment; seven smiling faces and fourteen arms lugging countless instruments from guitars to xylophones to trumpets and trombones, struggling to find sufficient space on The Bodega Social’s modest stage. When they finally do, and Jeremiah Johnson’s manic drum fill launches the band stratospherically into new single ‘Hanasakajijii Four: A Great Wind More Ash’, show-stealing is not so much a possibility as a certainty.

Very few bands sound as ecstatic, or receive such an active audience response, as Anathallo (pictured). Arcade Fire, a regular comparison despite having merely a member-count and horn section in common, did at one point, but unfortunately outgrew the intimacy needed to truly encapsulate the emotion. Akron/Family still do, but even on their most popular tracks they need to ask for handclaps and foot-stomps. But with Anathallo any reaction is as spontaneous as it is positive.

A brace of new songs is the highlight of the set. Whilst retaining the wide-eyed infantile joy of previous material, the band now exhibit much more songwriting maturity: every idea is fully realised and combined perfectly with ones familiar. Vocals twist in and out of falsetto, sometimes at the wrong points, and bend between whichever time signatures are being thrown out. But they never completely lose their place.

Indeed the band stray as far from the 4/4 verse/chorus/verse structure as is possible for a band so in love with pop hooks, yet labelling Anathallo’s music ‘math-rock’ says nothing of its emotional quality. It’s all irrelevant anyway, such a mechanical analysis of something so human in both its naked flaws and its moments of sheer beauty. All that needs to be said is that, in under half an hour, they leave the best possible impression.

Which is more than can be said for Manchester Orchestra. The problem may lay in the fact that instead of leaving an audience wanting more with a set showcasing only back-catalogue highlights Manchester Orchestra choose to play for an hour, which for a band with such a high percentage of ‘filler’ means a lot of downtime.

On ‘Wolves At Night’ and ‘Where Have You Been’ are undeniably impressive, spinning yarns of intelligent yet spiritual anthemic rock, but for too long they repeat the same formula without offering any real quality or ingenuity. The ‘Brand New rip-off’ tag that has been placed on them may be slightly unfair as well as inaccurate, but songs like ‘I Can Barely Breathe’ are nothing more than clones of clones of clones of the rightly maligned US College Rock template.

It is ironic that Manchester Orchestra’s profile has grown from playing bands with swollen fanbases offstage. Now, with the spotlight firmly shining, the same has happened to them. How much this is the fault of the band or their choice of support is, of course, a matter of personal opinion.