Barely on the cusp of recovery from a nasty throat infection- the only upside of which was that, being bed-ridden, I had time to slam through Stephen Fry’s sizeable The Stars’ Tennis Balls, which I highly recommend- I managed to shuffle my mangled husk down to the Prince.
Support band Parades bore me into a quiet stupor- it’s all pained, unharmonic vocals and big kick drums and ghostly ‘oohs’ and seriously Richard Kingsmill, you love these guys? A funny line from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World seems all the more significant now (“I’m gonna pee due to boredom”). They end the set with an epic instrumental which doesn’t sell it to me but is loud, impressive and adeptly performed. I make a list in my head of things I would rather be doing than watching this band (de-flea my cats, watch Two and a Half Men, hang out with a rolled-up carpet) and wait patiently
As the Nineties techno blares- I’m not sure why- I feel like I’m at a blue light disco. Zombie Nation pumps; people are loving this. I Can Feel The Beat by Darude follows; if Alice Deejay doesn’t follow this, I’ll be very disappointed. Luckily, two songs and just before Two Door Cinema Club hit the stage, Better Off Alone segues in from my year seven underage rave, on a scooter covered in off-the-shoulder tops and blue hair mascara. I am almost too lost in nostalgia to notice the tekkers ending and TDCC finally appearing.
Two Door Cinema Club come with a bang, not a whimper; lots of light, lots of noise. The sold-out crowd scream their collective face off. They open with the opening track from Tourist History– their latest record- Cigarettes in the Theatre. The speedy snare drums and jangly, ringing indie rock guitar set the crowd to stunned already- although the lighting guy needs to ease up, he nearly burned my eyes out with that display.
Undercover Martyn (“She spoke words that would melt in your hands…”) leads to personal favourite, the golden indie-poppy Something Good Can Work. There is a middle-aged woman two-stepping next to me- this is cute. This is the Life and I Can Talk make the crowd go nutso; people flinging themselves about (kamikaze punterage) and hopping in warp speed. I didn’t think Two Door Cinema Club, the little Irish indie boys, would bring out this kind of fanaticism, but it appears some people like to be a little less Melbourne than Melbourne breeds.
– Lisa Dib