Maxïmo Park – Singular @ Invisible Wind Factory – A Review

It is clear from studio recordings that Maxïmo Park front-man Paul Smith (so sharply dressed his fashion designer name-sake would surely approve) has a distinctive and powerful voice; somehow, listening to him live, I’m still pleasantly surprised at just how well he uses it. He’s as effective at belting out tunes in a style that brings to mind Jim Kerr at the height of Simple Minds’ powers as he is at delivering the sort of intimate moments that made Mark Hollis a real singers’ singer. The fact that he manages both extremes, and lots in between, so masterfully, whilst all the while maintaining his North East accent, adds to the sense of authenticity the band wears lightly, and wears well.

When addressing the crowd between songs, his stage presence is so-uncool-it’s-cool in an entirely unaffected way – a combination of heart-on-his-sleeve honesty and not-quite-geekiness that’s entirely endearing. He’s also a lot funnier than he seems to think – a great quality for a front-man, especially when playing in a city were everyone thinks they’re a comedian, and they’re mostly right.

This also provided a great counterpoint to the musicianship on display, for as soon as each song starts, he and the band are immediately über-fluent and laser-focussed in a way he’d belied only a few moments earlier.

The rest of the band (Duncan Lloyd on guitar, Andrew Lowther on bass, Tom English on drums, Jemma Freese on keys) are just as versatile, meaning that, amongst other things, we’re treated to Hook-and-Sumner-esque bass-and-guitar pairings, time signature shifts so perfectly executed they’d make The Cardiacs proud, and keyboard motifs that wouldn’t be out of place on a Vangelis soundtrack. It doesn’t take much of a leap to imagine one song being covered by Devo, the next gracing a Bond movie.

Elsewhere, there are driving elements that bring The Buzzcocks to mind, catchy near-anthems reminiscent of The Jam, and occasional chord progressions that evoke the music of The Doors. Nothing is misplaced, and nothing overstays its welcome.

I hadn’t previously thought of Maxïmo Park as a singles band, in part because I’ve always found just as much pleasure in their more slow-burning album tracks as in each of their incredibly catchy singles.

Similarly, the ‘indie / alternative rock’ tag doesn’t quite seem to fit, as their music flickers between being flavours, and is tinged with everything from the avant garde, to rock opera, to electro-pop. They appear just at home performing torch songs as they do rocking the crowd to the rafters. I genuinely can’t think of many bands that combine such apparently disparate elements in whole sets; this band sometimes does so – and does so very effectively – in individual songs. Perhaps some academic could explain how and why they make this work; I’d rather be part of this crowd and simply enjoy the music.

Alone, this dexterity might be of merely technical interest, or the musical equivalent of double- or even triple-jointedness; harnessed to the band’s experimental sensibilities and the complete accessibility of their songwriting, it is richly rewarding. Indeed, the warmth that the band brings to procedings means that the only side-effect of this being an autumnal Sunday evening is that the queue at the bar isn’t quite as long as you might otherwise expect.

I bought Maxïmo Park’s first three albums the minute they were released, but somehow, inexplicably, lost track of them after that. Songs I’m less familiar with – All Of Me, Get High (No I Won’t), What Equals Love, and Baby, Sleep, to name but four – are instant favourites heard live, proving this is an oversight I’ll do well to remedy.

Along the way, it was something of a surprise to hear the barnstorming brilliance Our Velocity roughly half way through the set – it’s such a powerful piece of music, I’d thought it might make a great finale. Their actual choice of final track – Apply Some Pressure – was a far better one, though, reflecting as it does (for me at least) what this band is all about: great songwriting and a refusal to be to easily categorised, allied to powerful performances that are never allowed to overshadow the real star of the show: the music itself.

Well, I say that was the final track, but as Paul Smith has already indicated, there is an encore to come. I’ve never seen a band leader so acutely aware of the faintly absurd nature of the pretence of the show being over, the temporary exit, and the return to stage as if summoned by the appreciation of the crowd. Well, it is faintly absurd; but it’s an absurdity we’re all happy to be part of.

As for our appreciation – that’s as deep as it is real.

*A footnote – I arrived in time to hear the last two tracks of Pip Blom’s set, and I have to say, they’re a great choice of support, with a harder edge enhancing the more melodic side emphasised by the radio. Catch their whole set if you can.