Tim Saccenti
Suppression and aggression are not usually the best of bedfellows.
Indicative of struggle, discomfort and a troubling state of mind, they can be words that worry. For Future Islands however, they power the engines of musical dynamism, driving this band further and further down the spiral. With each album the layer of palpable tension is only relieved by the direct, crisp beauty of the music itself.
This could in lesser hands lead to an extremely sterile and challenging live proposition; if all the audience got was the razor sharp digital lines on display any amount of brilliance or beauty could be negated.
But this is never so.
Welmers, Cashion and Murillo do deliver the clean, brooding and spiky musical lines they are known for, perfectly. Samuel T. Herring’s onstage persona, meanwhile, is almost indescribable, switching between gushing charisma and a silverback gorilla. He speaks often and eloquently about the music, about the band, about the emotions he is feeling.
And he sings. Within the same moment, the same sentence and the same sentiment singing, screaming and howling. It’s not something that can be defined. Suppression, that feeling of tension hidden just beneath surface, is now made manifold. Live, the beast in the blood is not just there between the lines, or hidden in the unsaid. It is trying to burst forth. Herring seems to be battling with something, trying to contain a power that is tearing him apart.
Songs so precise, so measured on record now have an elasticity, moments within resonate, given portent or power, humour or fury just on the turn of a phrase. It’s intoxicating as he strides the stage like a captive creature released into the wild. Not even he seems to know what will happen next, almost like some form of musically triggered schizophrenia as he reacts to each note with utter abandon, never knowing which of his personas will lead the charge.
And this continues on song after song at the Manchester Academy as they power through a huge list of tracks. They cover every album they have, in doing so confirming just how cohesive their musical vision has been. The music has grown with every album, as has the confidence in pursuing their vision. But in hearing songs such as ‘Little Dreamer‘ aside ‘Tin Man‘ or ‘Before The Bridge‘, and in turn ‘A Dream of You and Me‘, it’s clear their message and resonance has remained just as powerful and simple.
Future Islands are not a band searching for a hit, and live they are not a band trying to please. They are simply whatever they are. And live that is impossible to describe. Things can be said about it – beautiful, impassioned, bold, stark, gripping – but what exactly this means is their secret. They are sharing their souls with the world, without telling you why; that will forever remain theirs, and this sense of mystery and wonder alone makes the show something to behold.
Future Islands might be able to suppress their explosive passion in a studio, but there is no way to contain them on stage.
Denial has created a monster, and now it is running rampant.