Live Review: Alexisonfire - O2 Brixton Academy, London 22/10/2022
The return of Alexisonfire to Brixton’s O2 Academy, and one very much destined for the history books.
The thunderous bass drowning out conversations was the first sign opener Higher Power had arrived. The Leeds five-piece, with frontman Jimmy Wizard seeming to want to bring the venue down with the sheer force of his shouting alone, brought chaotic, post-hardcore punk to an entirely new level. Despite seemingly having only a sliver of stage to work with, their fevered energy, flying across the stage in leaps and bounds (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say full-body head-bangs?), was a perfect way to provide a high-octane start to the night.
And the band, from the outset, helped make the night a special occasion. Before even the first song — ‘Rewire (101)’ — had finished, they brought on a guest vocalist, their friend from Concrete Culture. Elsewhere, screams for some frantic headbanging accompanied ‘Passenger’ — the first of at least two songs of that name that night — while almost hypnotic synths preceded the thumping ferocity of ‘Fall From Grace’, even if at times it was hard to distinguish between Wizard’s screeched shouts and microphone feedback.
The band were also refreshingly candid, freely admitting that they doubted more than a few people in the room would have heard of them, being there purely so as to get a good spot for Alexisonfire. True, sure, but it’s rare to hear a support admit that; that, almost by itself, seemed to endear them to the thousand or so people in the room.
With the night being their second time this year playing O2 Brixton, it’s not a massive stretch to suggest they’ll headline in themselves in a good few years — but for now, the fantastic, final, freaks-dedicated ‘Seamless’ will have to tide them over. A great way to start the night.
‘We’re a warm up act, but I see little perspiration. A bit of clamminess, maybe... Bring it’. Taunting the audience sure is one way to get a crowd going, but Boston Manor made light work of their Brixton audience. From the outset, yellow searchlights blinded the crowd before erupting into blood red strobes — and, as the band broke into ‘Carbon Mono’, helped set the scene for the next forty minutes: furious, anthemic rock. Unsurprisingly, song two was more of the same — the nicely atmospheric number ‘Desperate Pleasures’, similarly ripped from last year’s Desperate Times, Desperate Pleasures EP, saw the band steadily build in both vitriol and volume before coming to an abrupt stop, to many a cheer.
Two even newer ones came straight after: the dark dance-rock-pop anthem Passenger, mosh pits breaking out along the front rows, before band-favourite Crocus — the slightly on-the-nose ‘I’m not the one you want, I’m the one that you got, I’m only just getting started’ giving a healthy ‘screw you’ to anyone not throwing themselves into the set in disdain at their not being Alexisonfire— helped breathe life into tracks from their recently released Datura, released only eight days prior. It was a testament to the band’s popularity that so many people up and down the iconic venue knew the words already.
Meanwhile, Welcome To The Neighbourhood’s England’s Dreaming, with that fantastic and foreboding guitar riff, saw gig goers tossed about in the pit ( and just as promptly picked back up again); joined by the surprisingly deep cut Funeral Party and the Glue favourite You, Me & The Class War, complete with throat-rippingly screeched breakdown, the rowdy tracks eventually led to a proclamation of pit safety — basically, look after each other and don’t be a dick. Simple eh?
The final two tracks, then — penultimate anthem Foxglove and fan favourite Halo — served as a perfect way to end the too-short set, with the multiple thousands of voices chanting, shouting, and generally echoing every word back at them just a taste of what was to come: both from Alexisonfire, and from their own, just-announced intimate tour in December for Datura.
Fantastic as ever from the (sort of) northerners.
And then it was AOF’s turn.
With the venue lights suddenly dropping down, the screaming could begin, as close to 5,000 people anxiously waited for the return of post-hardcore legends Alexisonfire to O2 Brixton. Storming straight on stage with Crisis’ opener ‘Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints’, it felt like the crowd had had some adverse reaction to the air; between people violently, uncontrollably throwing themselves into each other, red-faced shouting, and even a few gig-goers full-on sobbing, it looked like a medical emergency. But nope, that’s just the effect Alexisonfire has on people — Boiled Frogs wasn’t any better, the almost scathingly acerbic song somehow fostering both love (for the community) and hate (for the, for want of a better word, bourgeoisie) at the same time, while still being innately, almost painfully visceral; similarly, the heart-thumping, aggressive beauty of Mailbox Arson, a relative surprise given the sheer variety of the Canadians’ recent setlist, was as incredible as it was exhausting, leaving everyone feeling drained.
Meanwhile, Sans Soleil, the first taste of recently released album Otherness for the starved Brixton crowd, was practically hypnotic, enveloping the crowd in a mesmerising euphoria of Dallas Green’s transcendent voice, while Sweet Dreams Of Otherness felt almost ethereal, the three distinct vocalists (Green, Pettit and Wade MacNeil) blending and overlapping into one single layer of brilliance. The sibilance-soaked Blue Spade, too, menacingly surrounding the crowd in its slow, atmospheric web — unsurprisingly drenched in blue light — felt Purgatorial in its sinister beauty.
There were some deeper cuts as well. Guitar squeals, blurring into one, quickly gave way to a slow, atmospheric blur that transitioned into the ever quickening, ever fantastic tour debut of .44 Caliber Love Letter, pits breaking out even before the vocals had started, while 2004’s Accidents induced screams of ‘let’s redefine’ to deafen the venue (and anyone not wearing earplugs.)
There was even time for some politics. The scarily apt Crisis — with Boris trying to get the same number of PM attempts as he has wives, and multi-hundreds-of-millionaire Rishi Sunak waiting in the wings, the word Crisis barely begins to cover it. There was Committed To The Con, dedicated to our chance to oust those ‘motherfuckers’ in the (somehow not happening?) General Election. Not to mention, there was the less subtextual and beautifully succinct ‘FUCK THE TORIES’ from the bestial George Pettit in the vicious Dog’s Blood, invoking the loudest cheer of the night.
And, of course, what would an Alexisonfire gig be without the ol’ reliables? Young Cardinals, as haunting as ever; This Could Be Anywhere In The World, as universal as it is full of hopelessness, despair, and rage. And, sadly, finally, the sun-kissed Happiness By The Kilowatt, a painfully poignant musing on what happiness is; with Green’s captivating, spellbinding voice on full display over a simultaneously exhilarating and melancholy musical backdrop that builds to an explosive climax -- before almost unwillingly fading into nothingness -- there's never a better way to end a show.
It’s hard to really put into words just what makes Alexisonfire so great. Is it the incredible musicianship on display? The three insanely good vocalists? The frankly staggering amount of stage presence that the band own? — saying Alexisonfire has great stage presence is like saying a platypus lays eggs: true, but it doesn’t do them justice.
Perhaps even just bassist Chris Steele himself, his physical and facial contortions somehow as enchanting as anything else the band have produced.
Whatever it is: seeing Alexisonfire, whether or not you know the songs, feels like a religious experience in and of itself. Let’s just hope it doesn’t take another eight years for an album, because I for one am already counting down the days to the next show.
Words by James O’Sullivan
Photography by Abigail Shii
