“We used to be in the crowd like you lot,” proclaims the leather-clad Glaswegian frontman of The View’s support, The Shambolics, “off our fucking nuts and jumping around to the tunes”; his words a prophetically accurate description of what was about to take place in Academy 2 for the next just-under-60 minutes.
The View strode on stage shortly after and commenced the job of affirming the 900 gig-goers’ belief in classic indie guitar music. From the opening chords of ‘Glass Smash’, the audience were – to make use of a Manc parlance – “mad for it,” opening a perpetual mosh pit that would churn for the rest of the gig (with the exception of a few reverential, hushed minutes to allow for their slower numbers later in the set). The lads from Dundee continued; opening the set with some of their classics, ‘Wasted Little DJs’, ‘Underneath the Lights’, and ‘Skag Trendy’, much to the apparent delight of the crowd. The band, too – in the glimpses that could be caught of them between airborne pints taking flight across the sticky floors of the student venue – seemed to be revelling in their reception.
The atmosphere felt much like that of a football terrace, with almost the entirety of the setlist being punctuated by chants of, “The View, The View, The View are on fire!” The footwear and general demographic of attendees also bore a strong resemblance. “This is class, man, I love Manchester,” smiled lead singer Kyle Falconer. Having played Liverpool (perhaps Manchester’s only real rival for the title of “cultural powerhouse of the North”) the previous night of their tour, The View had some words of brotherly affirmation for the relationship between the two great cities. “They just feel so connected!” None of the angst of a Northwest Derby tonight, only an appreciation for two of the country’s most revered capitals of music.
The PH test for any band which emerged during the post-Strokes, early noughties heyday of guitar music on a modern tour came later in the set, when the dreaded words, “This is one of our new ones…” were spoken. It is testament, however, to the quality of their newest album, Exorcism of Youth, or perhaps to the loyalty of this impassioned crowd, that these words were not meant with the groans and muttered derisions that they usually cause, but greeted with the same enthusiasm as their best-known, best-loved anthems.
The band commented that they were “fighting against fucking Taylor Swift, man”, in relation to their album’s performance in the charts. Perhaps a ten-minute re-release of ‘Same Jeans’ would replicate some of Swift’s commercial success: a ‘View’s Version?’
‘Dixie’, for instance, and, ‘Wonder of it All’, were sung with such energy and enthusiasm that it would be hard for the uninitiated to distinguish the new releases from those of 15 ago, when the band were in their “angry young men” stage, so little of their original attitude and passion have the band lost. “That’ll be the way that I die: a heart attack singing Dixie,” laughed Falconer. He really did give it some.
Luckily, for those present who were concerned about the band’s cardio-vascular wellbeing, they were given a reprieve after the chaos of their best-known classic, ‘Same Jeans’, as the band sat back and let the crowd take over much of the singing for the tender, ‘Face for Radio’; a song which, in a set full of roars and shouts, showed the band’s ability to tug at heartstrings with a stripped back, prettily-sung tune. The tune transformed the crowd from a rowdy pit to a pub-at-closing-time scene, as arms reached up around the shoulders of the nearest mates and couples began to sway.
The View finished off the night with two of their staples, ‘Superstar Tradesman’ and ‘Shock Horror’, ramping the energy way back up for a crescendo of a finish. The gig came to a close as any good indie-rock gig does: covered in beer and sweat, with a random lad getting his top off on his mate’s shoulders.
As the final chords faded, the band waved goodnight, and the lights came up, I observed my fellow gig-goers stream out of the venue, gather in groups for a picture, head off to the bar, or rush to the front to plead for setlists and plectrums. I got the feeling that I may have missed proper View-mania by a generation or so, but it was not at all hard to see the appeal. The View, in their interview with The Mancunion, said that playing in Manchester always feels like a homecoming to them. It will be easy for anyone who was there to understand what they meant, the whole night really did feel like a meeting of old friends and a reliving of glorious old times.
