Kings of Leon

You’ve got to wonder about those Kings Of Leon. And if you don’t, leave it to the tabloid music press. We had it all the first time around, didn’t we? Band or PR exercise? Brothers or actors? Musicians or gigolos?

If you appreciated debut album ‘Youth and Young Manhood’ for its musical merits, chances are you won’t really care. I did and I don’t, respectively. I was just keen to see whether their Southern-fried energy could be transferred from shiny round disc to a freezing winter evening in Nottingham.

The crowd, at least, devise an ingenious way of keeping warm. To recreate the Rock City experience, purchase a tin of sardines and shake it like a lunatic in time to ‘Aha Shake Heartbreak’. Et voila, you can almost say you were there.

Almost, because you still miss out on the piercing shrills of the Queens. Every King needs one, and the Followills have a veritable army of pretty young things wanting to sit on their thrones. It’s a level of worship not seen since Take That in Manchester.

Luckily for my sanity, Barlow and the boys are left standing when it comes to the music. Yes, the music. The Kings of Leon, for all their rumoured extra-curricular activities, are also rather accomplished performers in the musical sense.

Opening with a triple whammy of songs from their debut, the Kings display the knack of remaining faithful to, but simultaneously improving on, the recorded versions. Twin guitars supply their trademark melody, supplemented by a surprisingly prominent rhythm section.

Whilst the opening salvo of ‘Happy Alone,’ ‘Red Morning Light,’ and ‘Wasted Time’ is well received, it’s the new tunes from ‘Aha…’ that provoke the most hysteria.

‘Pistol Of Fire’ is quickly followed by ‘The Bucket,’ and the Kings seem to revel in the freshness of playing their new material. Caleb beams between songs, thanking the audience and assuring them they’ve been among the best crowds on the tour.

The interplay between the front-man and lead guitarist Matthew demonstrates an assuredness earned from their relentless touring, and if the band couldn’t play their instruments properly circa ‘Youth and Young Manhood,’ this tour should dispel any remaining doubts about their musicianship.

Latest single ‘Four Kicks’ is raucously blunt, ‘King Of The Rodeo’ a sprawling melodic opus and ‘Molly’s Chambers’ the rousing anthem it always threatened to be.

The big slow number, ‘Milk,’ is delivered by Caleb in a whisper that veers between growl and whimper before the rest of the band join in as the song reaches a rousing finale.

Finishing the set with ‘Head To Toes,’ the Kings thank the crowd once again before leaving the stage. They’ve certainly answered my question; that "Southern-fried energy" transferred from record to gig effortlessly, and proved enough to warm up even the coldest journalist. Or maybe it was all those sardines…