Archives > Absolution Era > Islington Academy 22/09/03
Virtual Festivals review of the Islington Academy 03 gig
Author : Andrew Future | Date : 06 Mar 2005 15:23 | Submitted by Jamie | Comments : 
(1) | Rating :
7.15
(1) | Rating :
7.15
Halfway through ‘Butterflies and Hurricanes’, the epic centrepiece of Muse’s third studio album, Absolution, it becomes clear that the Exeter three-piece really have shaken off the shackles of genre and indeed comparison to any of their contemporaries. With fingers full of arpeggios and a throat full of diamond tornadoes, Matt Bellamy swings between the piano and guitar with such blissful ease that by the time they encore with ‘New Born’ we don’t so much expect it as demand it.
Seemingly without any musical limitations whatsoever, Muse have refined their spiralling operatics into songs that are more direct and less pompous. They’re still channelling emotion and melody with the kind of rocket science that Rachmaninov would have invoked had he been a massive Deftones fan, but they’ve learned to open their eyes and look you in the face a little more. We get the clap-happy ‘Time Is Running Out’ and future single ‘Hysteria’, possessing the kind of enigmatic guitar solo that brings grown boys to jellied knees and tears, but there’s more.
Like Placebo and Suede before them, Muse have amassed the kind of die-hard fanbase that could take-over small continents with the wink of their leader, and when ‘Bliss’ and ‘Plug In Baby’ are outed, the front of the crowd implodes in a glorious melee of sweat and badly attempted falsetto. Next time they see this it will be in a venue ten times this size, but this doesn’t stop the gesturing Bellamy, pounding and pogoing away in his parallel dimension.
Devoid of the kind of boastfulness that such a young and dynamic group could quite credibly hold, what holds Muse’s gameplan together is the honesty of it. Criticism in the past has been levelled at how seriously they take themselves, but they need it. As good as good The Darkness’s leather-clad theatrics are, they’re not exactly a match for ‘Citizen Erased’, are they? Thus, by the time their mighty internet-single ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ is unleashed, the feeling that there won’t be many better shows this year moistens our throats while our jaws remain on the floor. And so the resurrection of British rock continues.
Seemingly without any musical limitations whatsoever, Muse have refined their spiralling operatics into songs that are more direct and less pompous. They’re still channelling emotion and melody with the kind of rocket science that Rachmaninov would have invoked had he been a massive Deftones fan, but they’ve learned to open their eyes and look you in the face a little more. We get the clap-happy ‘Time Is Running Out’ and future single ‘Hysteria’, possessing the kind of enigmatic guitar solo that brings grown boys to jellied knees and tears, but there’s more.
Like Placebo and Suede before them, Muse have amassed the kind of die-hard fanbase that could take-over small continents with the wink of their leader, and when ‘Bliss’ and ‘Plug In Baby’ are outed, the front of the crowd implodes in a glorious melee of sweat and badly attempted falsetto. Next time they see this it will be in a venue ten times this size, but this doesn’t stop the gesturing Bellamy, pounding and pogoing away in his parallel dimension.
Devoid of the kind of boastfulness that such a young and dynamic group could quite credibly hold, what holds Muse’s gameplan together is the honesty of it. Criticism in the past has been levelled at how seriously they take themselves, but they need it. As good as good The Darkness’s leather-clad theatrics are, they’re not exactly a match for ‘Citizen Erased’, are they? Thus, by the time their mighty internet-single ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ is unleashed, the feeling that there won’t be many better shows this year moistens our throats while our jaws remain on the floor. And so the resurrection of British rock continues.