Review: Foals, Rock City
WITH five years’ worth of ear pleasing chart success under their belts, shouldn’t Foals be stallions by now?
Yes, that was an awful attempt at being topical – a little hat tip to this week’s horsey extravaganza that is the Cheltenham Festival – but the point holds true.
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Foals
Because Foals know what they are and what they’re good at. The band’s sold out gig at Rock City, which transformed into one massive mosh pit where only the stairs were safe, was a testament to this.
And Foals’ success is no coincidence given their enigmatic yet charismatic front man, the young hipsters of Nottingham getting together to worship at the altar of Yannis Philippakis – Vine-ing and Instagram-ing and tweeting along the way.
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Oh, and then there’s the little matter of the band’s brilliant songs. A number of the night’s stand out tracks – and biggest cheers, for that matter – came courtesy of their latest album Holy Fires, including both Providence and Inhaler, as well as the band’s hookiest and catchiest song, My Number.
Yannis – pocket rocket and Oxford drop out – is so cool and so watchable. You get the sense that if the 26-year-old wasn’t parading the stage, he’d be at the front jumping up and down and waking up the next day with a fag burn on his forehead.
He even delighted fans and security alike with a little crowd surf. And, without a doubt, he’s a big part of why the freezing Tuesday night felt like a Friday.
The Nottingham date was the penultimate gig on Foals’ UK tour as their fully honed show heads to Europe and then Stateside. And with such a tight set and a quality album to promote, the chances of Foals making it big in America are good.
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