Live Review: Architects - Alexandra Palace, London 06/05/2022
Friday 6th May 2022 — the date of Brighton-based metalcore heroes Architects’ triumphant return to the hallowed Alexandra Palace.
But first, the supports.
The sudden onset of air raid sirens, quickly giving way to the sound of a heart monitor rapidly picking up speed, announced the start of the evening’s proceedings. As security staff anxiously checked their earplugs were in place, the individual members of Sheffield-based Malevolence strutted on stage, each taking the helm of their respective instruments — and so it began. From that first blessed blegh of the evening, Alex Taylor and co stated their Intent; and it sure was Malicious. That first, heart-pounding song had it all, from headbanging to the likely early onset of some pit based haemorrhages; many a body went over the barrier in the first minute alone. And, as Taylor’s acerbic tones washed over the crowd, shattering some bones in the process by the look of the beautiful, Alexandra Palace wide mosh, it was only just beginning. The jagged On Broken Glass and the visceral Life Sentence quickly followed, residing somewhere between exhilarating and terrifying in their ferocious frenzy.
The five piece, liberally spread across the stage — after inducing a stupidly large circle pit during Self Supremacy— even took some time out of their set to call out men’s mental health, that it was okay to not be okay, before calling on the thousands who’d stormed in early to get their phone torches and lighters out for the ballad The Other Side, Taylor’s brutally beautiful voice roaring his way through the slow-paced, power ballad stunner.
The pit dispersed here but the gaping hole opened in the crowd never truly went away, everyone either a little too trepidatious or a little too in the know to assume safety. Fortunately, Malevolence had just the solution — fill it back up again.
Enter, Keep Your Distance. From those fast-paved opening notes, you know what you’re in store for: a good time. A violent and visceral time sure, but a good one nonetheless.
The six songs of the set flew by all too soon, and at that point it was just a short wait before the next performance of the evening.
But performance doesn’t do them justice.
Emerging on stage to the hypnotic notes of Alkaline, the shrouded sentinels of slumber Sleep Token arrived. At first just Vessel 1, he was quickly joined by his acolytes, heads bowed in prayer. Writhing in something between ecstasy and agony, perfectly mirroring the track, there’s something animalistic about the unnamed, husk-like figure.
Following it up immediately with the blistering Hypnosis, complete with waves of pious hands swaying side to side, the band had the crowd eating from their heavy, hymnal offerings. Third track Jaws was no different, if a little gentler in its build up; a piano led track quickly became a blistering bass-fuelled escapade into the band’s now deified psyche.
At this point, it was time to bring it down a little with the emotional (if sinister) Mine, complete with blasts of blinding lights and a choral contingent residing behind, with some entrancing falsetto for good measure, and the slightly strange choice of Like That. Not a bad one, for sure; some pounding drums and a catchy chorus often forgive pretty much anything. But an interesting one given the limited set and the Architects crowd residing in front. The husky questioning emerging from the stage — ‘do you like that’ — was met with an enthusiastic, if not perhaps resounding, yes.
The final three tracks were back to form. Fan favourite single The Love You Want was up first, purple lights breaking out as the closest the band comes to romantic took the stage. Lighters, torches, couples on each others’ shoulders and in each others’ arms — a reaction that many headline bands sometimes fail to achieve, let alone a 30 minute set from a support band. Penultimate Higher, with its slow, insidious build up, saw Vessel twisting and writhing through reverberating harmonies to breaking point; as his hopelessness became cathartic roars, even throwing a ‘blegh’ of his own in there; a few more frantic circles opened up, partakers even seeming to mirror Vessel’s own jilted contortions.
Finally, The Offering. From those first little notes of that malicious opening, you can tell it’s going to be special. The lyrics seem almost superfluous, simply giving shape to the all-encompassing oppression of the instrumentals, shifting and building to that final heart-thumping crescendo, one even the diehard Architects fans could appreciate. A perfect way to end.
It’s telling that London sold out the second sleep token and malevolence were announced as supports — both sets were something special, and a stunning start to the show.
The operative word here being ‘start’.
Cue a desolate, snowy wasteland, filled with pylons and deforested trees. Streaks of red lights and bursts of lightning cascade across the screen; broken down buses lay amongst towering skyscrapers, tributes to the heavens of a dying world. This isn’t some cinematic, hellscape — or isn’t just one anyway. Enter Sam Carter and co to the sound of an instrumental Do You Dream Of Armageddon, before breaking quickly into Black Lungs; a child made of light stands alone in smouldering embers on the screen behind them, as the environmentally distraught and dystopian opener to recent For Those That Wish To Exist comes to a sudden end.
Architects have arrived.
A short instrumental interlude quickly leads to two more FTTWTE favourites, the scornful Giving Blood, discussing the misuse and distortion of religion, and the brutally instrumental, blood boiling Impermanence, complete with metallic stomps and Sam’s vitriolic cry of ‘Do you really want to live forever?’, sung on record by Parkway Drive’s Winston McCall, before the band finally pause for breath.
‘LONDON’, Sam roars; ‘WE ARE ARCHITECTS’. As if anyone in the 10,000 strong crowd didn’t already know that. ‘Tonight, we are going to give you everything we Fucking have... who wants to hear an old song?’
This, inevitably, led to the first delve into the discography of the night: the opener to ‘All Our Gods Have Abandoned Us’, the vengeful Nihilist. As possibly the most explosive album opener you’ll find, it’s almost a shame that it was introduced rather than having the crowd thrown in at the deep end, as much to see faces suddenly light up in excitement to the fan favourite as it is to see other faces stricken with fear. The accusatorially acerbic song also got the first of the iconic Carter bleghs — and, despite how maligned it is with the band, there’s no question as to how much the crowd love each one. Modern Misery quickly followed, a firm stand out from previous album Holy Hell — full of rage, growls and existential dread, the track saw Carter seeming to harmonise with his on record self — before reaching another FTTWTE fan favourite, Discourse Is Dead. First debuted at the livestream from the Royal Albert Hall over lockdown, it seemed a fitting time to play a song about people being polarised, political hypocrisy included, straight after a song about mankind’s decline.
Taking another moment to pause, Sam smiles. ‘How many people here this evening were at our Wembley show?’ Recounting a story that many remembered, he reminisced about his friend’s son Franck who was undergoing chemotherapy at the time, and how the crowd at Wembley had cheered his name. Bringing him on, complete with much needed ear defenders, the crowd began cheering his name anew — a poignant moment in an otherwise blistering night. Another poignant moment came straight after, as the band broke into revered Royal Beggars. With Sam again fluctuating between heavy and soft, slews of hand hearts emerged into the sky as a shared love and appreciation; quickly flying into A Match Made In Heaven, a depressingly still-poignant song about despots in charge. A quick transition into Mortal After All, with Sam sadly but understandably leaving the high parts to the crowd, and it was time for another little break, this time taking a trip down memory lane.
“The first time I ever played in London was in (now O2) Islington, the small room, 200 odd. There were maybe 80 people there? And I came on and I sang the last song with them — we had MySpace but nothing else to announce the new singer.” This was back in 2007, when the band were still touring 2006’s Nightmares. “When I was at school, I wasn’t very good. I wasn’t very... clever. But I loved music. And this band gave me a fucking shot, and here we are 15 years later still doing it.” A few cheers rose at this, people obviously here from the start.
“Want another old one?”, he asked, to roars of approval, before jokingly admonishing the crowd: “Have you been practicing your bleghs?” This served as the perfect entry to the oldest song in the set, Lost Forever // Lost Together’s fantastic Gravedigger, before switching into Little Wonder and Meteor, both significantly lighter and significantly newer — almost passing the torch. Meanwhile an emotional Dead Butterflies, a surprise standout from FTTWTE, saw floral pink and blue lights beam onto the often tear-stricken audience; colours both reflecting the blue butterfly on pink flowers, and seeming to mirror fellow Brighton buddies Royal Blood.
Hereafter depicted the beginning of the close of the set. Hereafter the song I mean, and it strikes as the first in a triumvirate of grief: one of the first singles released from Holy Hell, it depicts the pain the band felt at losing founding and family member Tom Searle. It would be easy to say it acts as a source of catharsis, a way to deal with the sadness. But it never really goes away. As Sam says immediately after: “it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to feel like shit. But it’s okay to feel good, because the people we have lost would not want you to be sad. They’d want you to be living for every fucking day.”
“This is for our brother Tom.” Serving as the only introduction to a song that should need no introduction, the band broke into song two: Gone With The Wind. The deep, overbearing hopelessness of the track, somehow still retaining some semblance of beauty in the face of total loss, means it’s as much a mainstay for fans as it is for the still devastated band; backlit by a final ‘T//S’ and with chants of “Tom” emerging from the crowd, it’s always a hard one. So, too, is final Doomsday. The passion from everyone in the room was palpable, and many an eye was at the very least moist; it’s even tougher knowing that the song had only been part written by Tom before his passing, and had to be finished by his twin, drummer Dan Searle. “I want you guys to sing this song so loud you can’t speak in the morning. I’ll post my warm up routine on Twitter, it should get you through the day.” — mission accomplished.
The final two tracks were almost slightly underwhelming in the face of the poignancy of the ‘regular’ set enders, but they still gave it a damn good go. First up was recent single When We Were Young, a track ostensibly about growing up; what’s lost and gained. But it’s as much about the fatalism, cynicism, and yet fervent love for life that comes with it. Meanwhile, finale Animals — after shouting out the amazing crew that the band have with them, and getting a photo for the memory books — brought the night to a ferocious, deadly focused end, even if the crowd did begin to disperse in an attempt to beat the traffic.
A fantastic night from three brilliant bands, all at the cusp of something magnificent — what more could you want?
Words by James O’Sullivan
Photography by Sam Strutt
