Review of Wembley (10th Sept)

[bunerz]

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2186:muse-wembley-stadium&Itemid=27

 

Some years ago I saw Muse playing at the Corn Exchange in Cambridge. Towards the end of the show, at a climactic moment (I think it might have been during their proggy epic, “New Born”), singer and guitarist Matt Bellamy reached into a bag attached to his microphone stand, pulled out a handful of shiny golden confetti, and flung it into the air. It fluttered downwards most attractively. It was a terrific show, with some truly powerful music, but as far as visuals were concerned, the confetti moment was about as good as it got.

 

Compare, and contrast, that little affair with last night, the first of two nights at Wembley Stadium. Musically they were recognisably the same band – though over the years they have acquired a few more influences (adding Queen, disco and spaghetti-western themes to their unique cocktail of styles). But visually they were on another planet, somewhere in another galaxy: this was awesome, dazzling, dizzying, huge. I’ve followed their progress over the years, and each time I see them, they get bigger, more epic, more fantastic. No wonder Muse win so many awards and polls as “best live band”.

 

At Wembley, the stage set was built to resemble the corner of some weirdly proportioned office block, beneath which the band performed; a satellite stage (now de rigueur in stadium shows) was also part of their armoury, as were a series of big illuminated spheres arranged behind the stage. Also: a spaceship made an appearance (I won’t give away its surprise ingredient). And the video screens showed a brilliantly jittery rendition of the events on stage.

 

But it was the lighting that played a real blinder. At times it felt as if I was staring at the dawn of creation, into an explosion of light and colour; floodlights pulsed, immaculately synchronised with the drums of Dominic Howard, while a firmament of spotlights crackled, sparked, snapped and sizzled.

 

Of course, none of this would have meant much without the bulging compendium of epic, stadium-filling choruses and riffs that Muse have assembled in their decade or so as a recording band, and the gut-rumbling power with which they delivered their songs. In Bellamy, they have a genuinely brilliant musician, a guitarist of astounding fluidity, a vocalist whose voice soars and shimmers, and a pianist of some accomplishment. Bassist Chris Wolstenholme, meanwhile, plays with a distinctive thrum and locks into the drummer’s groove. (Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.)

 

This two-hour show delivered everything that a Muse fan could reasonably have expected: opening with “Uprising”, from last year’s The Resistance album (complete with extras marching around waving flags bearing the song’s slogan, “They will not control us”), they kept the crowd singing and punching the air with blockbuster tunes such as “Supermassive Black Hole” (with more than a whiff of Hendrix in Bellamy’s guitar playing), “New Born”, “Feeling Good”, “Time Is Running Out”, the sensational “Stockholm Syndrome”, and of course the screaming “Plug In Baby”. The momentum flagged briefly during a patch of slow songs, but not for long.

 

There’s a certain sort of rock-music purist who sniffs at stadium rock as not being the “real thing”; true, it’s a long way from being within spitting distance of a band, or following the movements of a guitarist’s fingers at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire. But stadium rock is a thing unto itself, a form of entertainment that has evolved to incorporate music, spectacle, razzmatazz, circus. Also, the crowd themselves play a crucial part, seething and singing and bobbling. At its best, it’s irresistible.

 

And this show was irresistible. Many of Muse’s songs are rooted in a preposterous mythology in which “they” (whoever “they” might be) are constantly out to get us, control us, force us to submit to “their” will. Frankly, it’s all a bit silly, but it didn’t stop me from singing at the top of my voice the refrain from the absurd and extraordinary “Knights of Cydonia”: “No one’s gonna take me alive.” Ridiculous; outrageous; fantastic.

[supralover23]

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2186:muse-wembley-stadium&Itemid=27

 

Some years ago I saw Muse playing at the Corn Exchange in Cambridge. Towards the end of the show, at a climactic moment (I think it might have been during their proggy epic, “New Born”), singer and guitarist Matt Bellamy reached into a bag attached to his microphone stand, pulled out a handful of shiny golden confetti, and flung it into the air. It fluttered downwards most attractively. It was a terrific show, with some truly powerful music, but as far as visuals were concerned, the confetti moment was about as good as it got.

 

Compare, and contrast, that little affair with last night, the first of two nights at Wembley Stadium. Musically they were recognisably the same band – though over the years they have acquired a few more influences (adding Queen, disco and spaghetti-western themes to their unique cocktail of styles). But visually they were on another planet, somewhere in another galaxy: this was awesome, dazzling, dizzying, huge. I’ve followed their progress over the years, and each time I see them, they get bigger, more epic, more fantastic. No wonder Muse win so many awards and polls as “best live band”.

 

At Wembley, the stage set was built to resemble the corner of some weirdly proportioned office block, beneath which the band performed; a satellite stage (now de rigueur in stadium shows) was also part of their armoury, as were a series of big illuminated spheres arranged behind the stage. Also: a spaceship made an appearance (I won’t give away its surprise ingredient). And the video screens showed a brilliantly jittery rendition of the events on stage.

 

But it was the lighting that played a real blinder. At times it felt as if I was staring at the dawn of creation, into an explosion of light and colour; floodlights pulsed, immaculately synchronised with the drums of Dominic Howard, while a firmament of spotlights crackled, sparked, snapped and sizzled.

 

Of course, none of this would have meant much without the bulging compendium of epic, stadium-filling choruses and riffs that Muse have assembled in their decade or so as a recording band, and the gut-rumbling power with which they delivered their songs. In Bellamy, they have a genuinely brilliant musician, a guitarist of astounding fluidity, a vocalist whose voice soars and shimmers, and a pianist of some accomplishment. Bassist Chris Wolstenholme, meanwhile, plays with a distinctive thrum and locks into the drummer’s groove. (Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.)

 

This two-hour show delivered everything that a Muse fan could reasonably have expected: opening with “Uprising”, from last year’s The Resistance album (complete with extras marching around waving flags bearing the song’s slogan, “They will not control us”), they kept the crowd singing and punching the air with blockbuster tunes such as “Supermassive Black Hole” (with more than a whiff of Hendrix in Bellamy’s guitar playing), “New Born”, “Feeling Good”, “Time Is Running Out”, the sensational “Stockholm Syndrome”, and of course the screaming “Plug In Baby”. The momentum flagged briefly during a patch of slow songs, but not for long.

 

There’s a certain sort of rock-music purist who sniffs at stadium rock as not being the “real thing”; true, it’s a long way from being within spitting distance of a band, or following the movements of a guitarist’s fingers at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire. But stadium rock is a thing unto itself, a form of entertainment that has evolved to incorporate music, spectacle, razzmatazz, circus. Also, the crowd themselves play a crucial part, seething and singing and bobbling. At its best, it’s irresistible.

 

And this show was irresistible. Many of Muse’s songs are rooted in a preposterous mythology in which “they” (whoever “they” might be) are constantly out to get us, control us, force us to submit to “their” will. Frankly, it’s all a bit silly, but it didn’t stop me from singing at the top of my voice the refrain from the absurd and extraordinary “Knights of Cydonia”: “No one’s gonna take me alive.” Ridiculous; outrageous; fantastic.

Morgan!!!

 

Nice review!

[Spy Fox]

Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.

 

[lissy.heinz]

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2186:muse-wembley-stadium&Itemid=27

 

Some years ago I saw Muse playing at the Corn Exchange in Cambridge. Towards the end of the show, at a climactic moment (I think it might have been during their proggy epic, “New Born”), singer and guitarist Matt Bellamy reached into a bag attached to his microphone stand, pulled out a handful of shiny golden confetti, and flung it into the air. It fluttered downwards most attractively. It was a terrific show, with some truly powerful music, but as far as visuals were concerned, the confetti moment was about as good as it got.

 

Compare, and contrast, that little affair with last night, the first of two nights at Wembley Stadium. Musically they were recognisably the same band – though over the years they have acquired a few more influences (adding Queen, disco and spaghetti-western themes to their unique cocktail of styles). But visually they were on another planet, somewhere in another galaxy: this was awesome, dazzling, dizzying, huge. I’ve followed their progress over the years, and each time I see them, they get bigger, more epic, more fantastic. No wonder Muse win so many awards and polls as “best live band”.

 

At Wembley, the stage set was built to resemble the corner of some weirdly proportioned office block, beneath which the band performed; a satellite stage (now de rigueur in stadium shows) was also part of their armoury, as were a series of big illuminated spheres arranged behind the stage. Also: a spaceship made an appearance (I won’t give away its surprise ingredient). And the video screens showed a brilliantly jittery rendition of the events on stage.

 

But it was the lighting that played a real blinder. At times it felt as if I was staring at the dawn of creation, into an explosion of light and colour; floodlights pulsed, immaculately synchronised with the drums of Dominic Howard, while a firmament of spotlights crackled, sparked, snapped and sizzled.

 

Of course, none of this would have meant much without the bulging compendium of epic, stadium-filling choruses and riffs that Muse have assembled in their decade or so as a recording band, and the gut-rumbling power with which they delivered their songs. In Bellamy, they have a genuinely brilliant musician, a guitarist of astounding fluidity, a vocalist whose voice soars and shimmers, and a pianist of some accomplishment. Bassist Chris Wolstenholme, meanwhile, plays with a distinctive thrum and locks into the drummer’s groove. (Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.)

 

This two-hour show delivered everything that a Muse fan could reasonably have expected: opening with “Uprising”, from last year’s The Resistance album (complete with extras marching around waving flags bearing the song’s slogan, “They will not control us”), they kept the crowd singing and punching the air with blockbuster tunes such as “Supermassive Black Hole” (with more than a whiff of Hendrix in Bellamy’s guitar playing), “New Born”, “Feeling Good”, “Time Is Running Out”, the sensational “Stockholm Syndrome”, and of course the screaming “Plug In Baby”. The momentum flagged briefly during a patch of slow songs, but not for long.

 

There’s a certain sort of rock-music purist who sniffs at stadium rock as not being the “real thing”; true, it’s a long way from being within spitting distance of a band, or following the movements of a guitarist’s fingers at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire. But stadium rock is a thing unto itself, a form of entertainment that has evolved to incorporate music, spectacle, razzmatazz, circus. Also, the crowd themselves play a crucial part, seething and singing and bobbling. At its best, it’s irresistible.

 

And this show was irresistible. Many of Muse’s songs are rooted in a preposterous mythology in which “they” (whoever “they” might be) are constantly out to get us, control us, force us to submit to “their” will. Frankly, it’s all a bit silly, but it didn’t stop me from singing at the top of my voice the refrain from the absurd and extraordinary “Knights of Cydonia”: “No one’s gonna take me alive.” Ridiculous; outrageous; fantastic.

 

Sounds like he/she/it was on more than just one Muse concert. And that was really the first time he/she/it saw Morgan? Thats weird

But all in all very nice

[a-museing]

[scifigeekgirl]

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2186:muse-wembley-stadium&Itemid=27

 

Some years ago I saw Muse playing at the Corn Exchange in Cambridge. Towards the end of the show, at a climactic moment (I think it might have been during their proggy epic, “New Born”), singer and guitarist Matt Bellamy reached into a bag attached to his microphone stand, pulled out a handful of shiny golden confetti, and flung it into the air. It fluttered downwards most attractively. It was a terrific show, with some truly powerful music, but as far as visuals were concerned, the confetti moment was about as good as it got.

 

Compare, and contrast, that little affair with last night, the first of two nights at Wembley Stadium. Musically they were recognisably the same band – though over the years they have acquired a few more influences (adding Queen, disco and spaghetti-western themes to their unique cocktail of styles). But visually they were on another planet, somewhere in another galaxy: this was awesome, dazzling, dizzying, huge. I’ve followed their progress over the years, and each time I see them, they get bigger, more epic, more fantastic. No wonder Muse win so many awards and polls as “best live band”.

 

At Wembley, the stage set was built to resemble the corner of some weirdly proportioned office block, beneath which the band performed; a satellite stage (now de rigueur in stadium shows) was also part of their armoury, as were a series of big illuminated spheres arranged behind the stage. Also: a spaceship made an appearance (I won’t give away its surprise ingredient). And the video screens showed a brilliantly jittery rendition of the events on stage.

 

But it was the lighting that played a real blinder. At times it felt as if I was staring at the dawn of creation, into an explosion of light and colour; floodlights pulsed, immaculately synchronised with the drums of Dominic Howard, while a firmament of spotlights crackled, sparked, snapped and sizzled.

 

Of course, none of this would have meant much without the bulging compendium of epic, stadium-filling choruses and riffs that Muse have assembled in their decade or so as a recording band, and the gut-rumbling power with which they delivered their songs. In Bellamy, they have a genuinely brilliant musician, a guitarist of astounding fluidity, a vocalist whose voice soars and shimmers, and a pianist of some accomplishment. Bassist Chris Wolstenholme, meanwhile, plays with a distinctive thrum and locks into the drummer’s groove. (Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.)

 

This two-hour show delivered everything that a Muse fan could reasonably have expected: opening with “Uprising”, from last year’s The Resistance album (complete with extras marching around waving flags bearing the song’s slogan, “They will not control us”), they kept the crowd singing and punching the air with blockbuster tunes such as “Supermassive Black Hole” (with more than a whiff of Hendrix in Bellamy’s guitar playing), “New Born”, “Feeling Good”, “Time Is Running Out”, the sensational “Stockholm Syndrome”, and of course the screaming “Plug In Baby”. The momentum flagged briefly during a patch of slow songs, but not for long.

 

There’s a certain sort of rock-music purist who sniffs at stadium rock as not being the “real thing”; true, it’s a long way from being within spitting distance of a band, or following the movements of a guitarist’s fingers at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire. But stadium rock is a thing unto itself, a form of entertainment that has evolved to incorporate music, spectacle, razzmatazz, circus. Also, the crowd themselves play a crucial part, seething and singing and bobbling. At its best, it’s irresistible.

 

And this show was irresistible. Many of Muse’s songs are rooted in a preposterous mythology in which “they” (whoever “they” might be) are constantly out to get us, control us, force us to submit to “their” will. Frankly, it’s all a bit silly, but it didn’t stop me from singing at the top of my voice the refrain from the absurd and extraordinary “Knights of Cydonia”: “No one’s gonna take me alive.” Ridiculous; outrageous; fantastic.

 

Good review. (Altho poor Dom didn't get named ) Interesting stuff...I like the fact that the writer understands that big stadium shows are a different beast compared to usual (rock) gigs.

 

Audience participation: BOBBLING?! Yeah I was doing some of that:D

[tonimacaroni]

"mysterious fourth member" haha!

 

God I cant wait for tonight!

[mon_coeur_s'ouvre]

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2186:muse-wembley-stadium&Itemid=27

 

Some years ago I saw Muse playing at the Corn Exchange in Cambridge. Towards the end of the show, at a climactic moment (I think it might have been during their proggy epic, “New Born”), singer and guitarist Matt Bellamy reached into a bag attached to his microphone stand, pulled out a handful of shiny golden confetti, and flung it into the air. It fluttered downwards most attractively.

 

omg, i wish i would have seen that! :LOL:

[Argon]

Good review. (Altho poor Dom didn't get named ) Interesting stuff...I like the fact that the writer understands that big stadium shows are a different beast compared to usual (rock) gigs.

 

Fourth paragraph in he mentions Dom by name.

[weird cOokie]

who's that morgan dude you're all talking about?

 

aww poor morgan, seriously. s/he seems to have seen muse live several times, and never saw him?

[cherry lips]

...mysterious fourth member...

 

 

 

 

The name is Morgan...

[scifigeekgirl]

Fourth paragraph in he mentions Dom by name.

 

So he does. Erm did. Does.

 

That's the trouble of posting with insufficient sleep/caffeine:rolleyes:

 

I will be even worse tomorrow.

[Tofu]

In Bellamy, they have a genuinely brilliant musician, a guitarist of astounding fluidity, a vocalist whose voice soars and shimmers, and a pianist of some accomplishment.

Idk, it's just like... BRILLIANT! ASTOUNDING FLUIDITY! SOARS AND SHIMMERS!

 

...some accomplishment.

 

(Also on stage was the mysterious fourth member, playing keyboards and other instruments, vital but unacknowledged.)

FTW

 

Ridiculous; outrageous; fantastic.

This.

[Atheist'sLastThought]

Oh, how I wish I could see them tonight. :'(

[Guest jessychickin]

Oh' date=' how I wish I could see them tonight. :'([/quote']

 

+1

[Novus Dies]

The guy obviously accidentally put the DVD in of 2007 and reviewed it instead of last night's gig.

[Phil.]

Well if friday got as good reviews as this, I wonder what the reviews for last night are gonna be like.

[the_invincible_dude]

Great review, thanks for posting.