Live Review: Fontaines D.C. @ Bristol O2 Academy


Tom Coll with Fontaines D.C. @ Manchester Academy (Gary Mather for Live4ever)

Tom Coll with Fontaines D.C. @ Manchester Academy (Gary Mather for Live4ever)




While all live music was eagerly anticipated during those long winter months, some tours were more so than others.

Fontaines D.C. were riding the crest of a wave in early 2020 with a well-received first album and live shows going down a storm, and with a fine second album in their back pocket, the time was theirs. Undeterred by the pandemic, they released A Hero’s Death in mid-2020 and sat back while further accolades were thrown their way.

Rather than stifling their momentum, the long wait to see the songs performed live has surely worked in their favour. The tour has seemingly been a roaring success, and the atmosphere and excitement before they take to the stage is electric at a very busy Academy.

The band know it too, and they throw flowers into the audience to sate the baying crowd for a few brief seconds before opening with the second album’s title-track, a lockdown anthem itself. The hook ‘life ain’t always empty’, so defining and hopeful in the darkness of spring 2020, is finally laid to rest as it’s belted out by Grian Chatten and the crowd while his colleagues supply the doo-wop backing vocals.

The opening section sustains its momentum and keeps the whole downstairs of the venue moving. A Lucid Dream sees Chatten allow the band to swamp him as the song dictates and, even though the lyrics don’t always scan, the singer delivers them with aplomb, straddling the fine line between singing and shouting.

The evolution of Chatten as a frontman continues; in their early days, he would pace back and forth between his contributions, looking at the crowd as if to suss them out. In hindsight, it now seems like he was studying them as his demeanour is far more animated.

Still crackling with restless energy, but with an eye more on performance, whether he’s playing tambourine or putting more emphasis into his singing (frequently leaning into the mic stand to push it forwards while throwing his left arm behind him, expressively), it’s still hard to take your eyes from him. One of this generation’s truly great frontmen.

Surprisingly, the ratio of tracks from first and second album is still in favour of the former, although this may simply be down to their effectiveness when played live. I Was Not Born, for example, doesn’t really go anywhere as a song but raggedly sustains the momentum after a strong opening salvo.



Meanwhile, the brooding I Don’t Belong is designed to be an intimate experience between the band and the listener and, although it sounds equally good live as on record, and does create the opportunity for a breather mid-set, its exclusion wouldn’t be a great loss.

On the other hand, Televised Mind and Living In America work perfectly. Although the former’s repeated lyrics are slightly wearing on record, as a live track it’s relentlessness and vibrant distortion pulverises the crowd while also being a big singalong. The latter is equally moody, and enables Chatten to shout and spit into the microphone with intent.

The rest of the band barely look up, preferring instead to glower down at their instruments and let the music do the talking. Indeed, Chatten doesn’t utter a word to crowd or bandmates, simply getting on with the job of delivering generation-defining rock music.

If anything, despite the strength of A Hero’s Death, the tracks from Dogrel have been bolstered by its presence, all sounding bigger and brasher without any modifications. The endless cyclone of Hurricane Laughter, always menacing, is now a set highlight, as the lights swirl around the room to create the effect of being inside a fire alarm. Were the Academy to be evacuated, security could be forgiven for their mistake. Meanwhile, the phased guitar on The Lotts pierces the venue. The Academy isn’t renowned for its great sound, but no-one told Fontaines D.C..

The final section is a masterclass of structure; Big now sounds nostalgic (‘my childhood was small but I’m gonna be big’ – sorted) but no less beguiling, while Boys In The Better Land (sandwiching the aforementioned Televised Mind) whips the crowd up again with its empathic drums.

Upon their return for the encore there is perhaps a sense of disappointment in the air that there isn’t Another Fast One, but the wistful Roy’s Song is an apt reminder that there are levels and nuance to their oeuvre, and the riotous Liberty Belle remedies any ills.

Given how ‘big’ they are becoming (Grammy-nominated, no less), it’s a blessing to see them in a venue of this capacity. Filling an arena (in both crowd and volume terms) will not be a problem.

Richard Bowes

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