The Futureheads

Being dropped from a label is something many of us can only empathise with, perhaps as gutting as your mum throwing you down the stairs. But apparently not: according to reports The Futureheads have never felt so creatively free since splitting with 679. It may be a pushy maternal instinct to see your creation thrive but to cut them loose when the second album proves a commercial miss is a bit much. Kicking shit into the eyes of the majors, they’re now doing it their way. This tour, the third album and ‘The Beginning of the Twist’ are the fires whence this phoenix rose.

Ever confident and holding absolute belief in their new mission, Sunderland’s favourite sons storm through ‘A to B’, ‘Area’ and more. Turn to a friend, chat to a neighbour and you’ve already missed the opening numbers. The playful aggression nurtured at Fantastic Plastic suddenly seems a lot more belligerent tonight as mettle is tested. Despite these serious rites of passage, Barry and Ross maintain a mischievous mood demanding people dance as if at the school disco, just as ‘Skip to the End’ explodes from the setlist. Barry’s new hair, a throwback to a This Is England age, and raged-filled expressions stand juxtaposed to his request for everyone to sing along, mimicking the call of the seagull.

The effort in making ‘Stupid and Shallow’ and ‘Meantime’ as danceable as humanely possible has been used to demonstrate growth in the band with new songs reflecting a maturity that’s not all pretence and pomp; that is if you overlook the ballroom timing of the future hits. Ross announces proudly:_ “The next one starts in waltz time,”_ the title track of This Is Not the World that is. You’d be forgiven for thinking the boys are catering for the Strictly Come Dancing audience as the last song starts in tango time. The current single and ‘Man Ray’ encore, though, indicate that they’re definitely not paling as the din peaks at stadium-rock anthem levels.

There’s a natural pause in the ‘Man Ray’ lyrics while the music ticks over mercilessly. The four Futureheads each graciously thank the crowd for dancing the school disco salsa to which a roar silences the instrumental din to reassure the band that while their former label may have deserted them their fans certainly won’t.

Read our review from Oxford here