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MUSE - Wembley 16th June 2007 Review
Muse Saturday 16th June 2007
Wembley Stadium, London It has been a well established fact in the rock fraternity that Devonshire boys, Muse were one of Britain's best kept secrets on the live circuit, a fact not privy to the public till the release of Absolution in 2004 and Black Holes and Revelations in 2006. Having won the Mercury Music Award for Best Live Act, and countless other awards, Muse are, as they say, at the top of their game. They have then since taken Europe, and as of last May, the world by storm, having undertaken a world tour and shifted well past two million copies across the globe. Their own brand of stadium and festival size rock have flattened vast areas of countryside and could very well be the answer to the ever burgeoning question of modern day crop circles. Despite this, it came as a surprise to many that these Teignmouthian folk be so brave as to book the first slot at the prestigious Wembley Stadium. Despite George Michael, fellow countryside kinda guy (albeit for all the wrong reasons), taking the first ‘First Official Musical Act Slot', the dirty smut peddler doesn't actually count. The mini Muse Festival, Mustival if you will, is kicked off by flamenco guitar wielding duo, Rodrigio y Gabriela. So early in the day, the crowd are welcoming, whopping and wooing, as the stadium is slowly filling. The Mexicans tease and work the crowd, slipping classic riffs (Enter Sandman) into their intricate string wankery much to the delight of fans. If reverence is what you're looking for, here it is, many of the crowd stare at them open mouthed and ever so slightly drooling at their nylon mastery however it takes a different act to instil a sense of fun into proceedings, a hole Zane Lowe is very well equipped to plug. The congregation warm very well to Zane, both a familiar face and voice. Playing dead cert tunes like ‘Smells like Teen Spirit' and ‘Song 2', the people are kept entertained and on their toes as more start to fill the seated areas. Next it's Dirty Pretty Thing's time to be judged, and judged they are, as Barat's garage rock doesn't seem to hit a note with a zealous Muse crowd. Everything seems to fall apart within a space of 3 songs, amps fry, strings fly and the crowd respond with a chorus of boos and hissing. Things are all about to go a bit Panic! At the Disco, however the boys roll out chart friendly ‘Bang Bang You're Dead' and the crowd loosen up. Unimpressive. Having witnessed the crowds' relative apathy, there is a lingering feeling that Mike Skinner is like a man on his way to the gallows. With the backing track of ‘Prangin' Out', Skinner proceeds to try and evoke some excitement or passion from Wembley. Despite being a very charismatic performer, his honorable efforts seem lost; he'd probably have better luck trying to extract a small African child who had become trapped in a small sapphire. With tweezers. Skinner is pleading with the audience; he seems to break through with the universal language of Mexican waves, nearly there. Several "jump!"s later, we're getting somewhere, he's jeering the crowd, kicking an inflatable football, evoking the spirit of Freddie Mercury "Radio Gaga!" and just using plain childhood honesty "HELLO WEMBLEY!". Finally, we are here, the irresistible synths and beats of ‘Turn the Page' and ‘Blinded by the Lights' cause a spluttering of pogo action and whooping, then all of a sudden it's all over. A murmuring builds, there is one more act left, a sea of Muse t-shirts serve as a pretty impressive reminder for anyone who have forgotten. Anticipation builds every second past the scheduled time they overrun, 17 whole minutes to be precise, or 10,20 seconds to a Muse fan. Sergei Prokofiev's ‘Dance of the Knights' sirens through the stadium, gold confetti is expelled from within the standing, what-the- factor has just gone through the (non-existent) roof, even building it's own spaceship for propulsion to galactic levels. The satellite dishes stand ready and armed and giant balloons glow and ominous blue. Matthew Bellamy, Dominic Howard and Christopher Wolstenholm both strut out, walking what could possibly be the scariest 20 feet of their lives. Not just because of the nerves, but of the sheer mania consuming the fans below. There is an energy possessing the second-most-obsessive fans in the world (second only to Michael Jackson's), derangement fill the eyes of every spectator and a zombie like stare emerges, Muse know they will get ripped to shreds if they so much as extend a grabbable limb. ‘Knights of Cydonia's opening chord is struck, and Bellamy's face is projected on a massive video backdrop. The crowd physically drop to their knees in worship, launching the band to the dizzying ecclesiastical heights of deities, however only to jump straight back up and go literally ape. ‘Hysteria' evokes much the same, things calm down towards robotronic uber funk hit ‘Supermassive Black Hole', with a orthodox style of dancing. Just like any master showman knows, every show must have it's upbeats and downbeats, old time favourite resurrected ‘Citizen Erased' and ‘Feeling good' vary the mood and just allows for a good old sing along. ‘City of Delusion' sees Bellamy don an acoustic guitar and placed in a futuristic backdrop of a city under siege, the as of yet solitary dishes, move like turrets, and Bellamy's falsetto histrionics is a call to arms. ‘Starlight' is a moment nothing short of euphoric, resounding clap-alongs, and a piano melody, which could give Bono a run for his money. Sparks and fireworks sparkle and glimmer off every eyeball in the crowd. ‘Blackout' creates an unsettling mood of serenity, true beauty through conflict, mainly deciding on whether to watch the band or the breathtaking aerial dancers precariously dangling from inflated balloons. During ‘Unintended', Bellamy's operatic composition allows the crowd to turn around and comprehend the enormity of the event, the unravelling spectacle and splendour of everything. A small galaxy is created, as 70,000 mobile phone powered stars twinkle and shine. ‘Plug in Baby' and ‘Stockholm Syndrome' cause a beautiful mass mosh, registering crazy on the Richter scale, both their titanic riffs and hearty choruses confirming Muse to be the greatest act on earth. ‘Take a Bow', Muse's final offering ends in an exhilarating acceleration of digital triplets, culminating in a cardiac arrest inducing wall of fire to signify the end of the world. Or so it might seem to the fans of the most powerful band in the world. Review by - Ashley Shaw
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