Kaiser Chiefs and Razorlight @Enmore Theatre, Sydney(31/03/09)

Fri 3rd Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

Considering my predilection for eardrum-annihilating rock/hip-hop gigs some time late last year, I decided to get myself some industrial strength earplugs to attenuate the crazy decibels wreaking havoc on my poor little ears. Needless to say, March 31 was not a good day to leave the faithful plugs at home.

I’ve heard a lot about Razorlight over the past few years. Mainly about the obnoxiousness of frontman Johnny Borrell, who is forever paying the shit out of everyone who is anyone. He told the Kooks that they were shit, wrote a song targeting ex-mate Pete Doherty and generally gets up a few too many noses. All controversy slides off as Borrell and his band of Swedish-Englishmen take to the stage to a somewhat unenthusiastic reception. I put this down to the divergent musical styles of Razorlight and tonight’s headliners, Kaiser Chiefs, and listen out for the couple of singles I appropriate by way of some NME mixtapes.

Borrell and co. do Golden Touch and Rip It Up at a, suitably ripping pace, but it is in the slower moments, when Borrell’s innate showmanship and raw talent are exposed, that Razorlight triumph. On the Johnny Cash-tinged In The City and the late-blooming Somewhere Else, Borrell’s physicality is impressive and his delivery impeccable. The band departs drenched in sweat but with a fair few new fans in tow.

Where Razorlight are, effectively, Borrell, Kaiser Chiefs – who tonight arrive onstage announced by a groovy – œ70s theme track – are a band. And a damn well-refined one at that. Not to say that Razorlight weren’t tight as hell, but the unity and common purpose of Kaiser Chiefs is immediately striking. They look like they’re having fun together on stage. The audience quickly follows suit. While the Kaisers joke with each other and, behind the big backs of a couple of angry security guards, encourage the punters to climb onto each other’s shoulders, the crowd is as receptive and raucous as Ricky Wilson and the lads expect them to be.

It’s a wonder frontman Wilson hasn’t cardiac-arrested live, given the theatrics on show for the first couple of hits. And even after Ruby and I Predict A Riot are put to rest, Wilson never slows up. Impressively, neither does his vocal quality diminish, even as you can hear he’s losing his voice when he engages in audience banter.

Given the anthemic core of a lot of their tracks (think Riot, Na Na Na Na Na, Everyday I Love You Less and Less ), the sweating, heaving mass has no problems obliging freakishly enthusiastic Wilson when he frequently cups hand to ear and motions for applause.

The band’s frenetic pace lets up only once when it seems that they’ve forgotten what comes next in the set-list. As a team meeting ensues, drummer and back-up vocalist Nick Hodgson pipes up with, – œWell this is a slick rock show, innit?’ It’s a reminder to the crowd that, even after playing at Wembley, the parochial Chiefs don’t take themselves too seriously. As the sounds of The Angry Mob and the Lily-Allen-covered Oh My God reverberate through the theatre and Wilson crowd surfs his way back and forth across an ecstatic crowd, it seems that it won’t be only my ears left buzzing.