Concert Review: The 1975 Brings Their Very Best with Theatrics, Flasks, and Standing Ovations
In a two-part act with 26 songs, The 1975 brought a new level of its signature melodramatic pop rock to Austin last week.
Written by Katie Karp
Photos by Jordan Curtis Hughes
The crowd grew louder and egged on Matty Healy with shrieks by the time he peeled off his white polo, button by button, on Thursday, Nov. 17. The 1975 frontman’s ability to rile up an audience was apparent in the previous 12 songs, but his performative mid-set mental breakdown during “Be My Mistake” sparked a new level of excitement in the Moody Center. Maybe it was his ability to capture the very real desperation to meet societal standards with a sense of sarcastic glamor. Maybe it was Healy’s complete ownership of his stardom, playing into his reputation as a heartthrob. In reality, there’s no singular it that brought the full arena to its feet for the duration of the band’s two hour set, but rather an undeniable “it factor.”
Formed in 2002, the English boy band is probably just as old as a large chunk of their biggest fans. This means that while older generations may dismiss excessive theatrics at a pop-rock show, chunky-vintage-jacket-wearing young adults can relate to The 1975’s neo-nostalgia. The four-piece couples contemporary prose with synthy sonics almost reminiscent of new-wave. Healy’s lanky, tattooed body topped with a movie star’s face not only further forges this contemporary retro image online, but also onstage during the “At Their Very Best Tour.”
Just as each of their albums open with a new track titled “The 1975…,” the set kicked off with the first track on their one-month-old album. One by one, in simple black-and-white outfits, the band turned on the lights of the large stage, or, really, the lamps in their large house. On the same ground where the University of Texas at Austin Men’s Basketball team played the night before, The 1975 constructed their own home to jam in. Blending a spiral staircase and white walls with wood furniture and multiple old, clunky TVs, even the band’s two-story house converged a 20th century feel with a modern design. With four extra backup players, each of the eight people on stage started off several feet apart from each other, independently playing heartful chords to accompany their rooms apart as they together trill, “It's cynical / This Adderall / And vitriol / And young people drinking Aperol.”
The first seven songs on set mirrored the first seven tunes of their most recent album, Being Funny In A Foreign Language. The opening tunes enveloped their new work they are apparently very proud of (hence the not-so-humble tour title), and rightfully so. Jumping from the swingy groove of “Looking For Someone to Love” highly evocative of 1980s classic “Come On, Eileen,” to the optimistically loving “Oh Caroline,” the boy band demonstrated they are more than just an archetype. Adam Hann’s silky guitar arrangement combined with George Daniel’s drum kit met narrative lyrics that Healy sang in harmony with a background singer’s feminine vocals. Collectively the unique skills formed a sound of vulnerability as they touched on heavy themes of abuse and self-deprecation. Blissfully hymning, “So many cringes and heroin binges / I was coming off the hinges, living off my, my, my imagination,” “Part of the Band” foreshadowed the bubbling tumultuous emotions masked by generally happy-sounding songs.
Between the extravagant set and performative nature of the first half, it feels right to say Healy played a character for the opening portion of the show. Intermittent large flask swigs, cigarette chain smoking sessions, and nods to masturbation breaks between songs added to their boiling point. “I Like America & America Likes Me” is inspired by Joseph Beuys’ 1974 artwork that — like the song — symbolizes how living in an untamed and erratic environment causes destruction for its inhabitants. Drunk and uncontrollable, Healy ascended to the rooftop to spit out loaded lyrics about living in a country that lacks gun control. “Would you please listen? We can see what's missing / When you bleed, say so we know / Being young in the city” was a cry for help masked with severe autotune, nodding to the lack of connection and true expression that accompanies online pleas for change.
The lamps were turned off by the time Healy climbed down the stage, forging an inescapable rawness as he hit the keys of his rugged piano to “About You” alone in the dark. Vulnerability prevailed in “When We Are Together” with the acoustic admittance of using romantic relationships to hide from his inner troubles segueing to the show’s climax. With Healy as the only exception, there was a cast-wide costume change into white lab coats. Quiet and observant, our main character went from the scream-provoking pre-masturbation shirt-stripping to doing an (honestly impressive) amount of pushups while watching TV screens that displayed the popular face of toxic masculinity, Andrew Tate. Questioning what it means to be a white, liberal man — he slyly cracks “What? Am I supposed to be Joaquin Phoenix?”
At the show’s peak, it was apparent that Healy clearly related to his character. He too is an expert in suppressing unwanted turbulent emotions, unsure how to cope. With the help of his white-coated bandmates, Healy was able to walk through one of the set’s TV screens. Transforming from shirtlessly intoxicated to an acceptably clad normal member of society, the melodramatic “show about a show” ended.
The latter part of The 1975’s Austin performance followed a more typical concert protocol. The internationally recognized bell-bottomed band’s performative nature existed throughout the rest of the show in its natural form rather than as part of an act. Each of the members returned to the stage as themselves, dressed in black with a new vibrancy and vitality. “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)” opened the beginning of the set’s end, and the crowd shouted for Healy to take off his clothes; clearly there was a strange fanaticism among many starry-eyed fans. Regardless, sliding into new-wave reggae sounds on “TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME” and hopeful jingles on “Me And You Together,” the added element of the musicians acknowledging each other rather than playing in their own “rooms” lasted throughout the set.
The duration of the show included a stacked list of greatest hits. Old-school persona and histrionics aside, their pop side is ultimately what led to their sold-out show. Whether it be their simplistic yet possessive honesty in “Somebody Else” or the hopeful catchiness in “Chocolate,” The 1975, just like any contemporary pop group, maintains a certain image. The lustful coolness that makes the band so alluring was present throughout both acts and rang true of its persona. Risqué seductiveness was in full bloom during “Sex,” as seemingly the whole arena uniformly sang “Use your hand and my spare time / We’ve got one thing in common / It’s this tongue of mine / She’s got a boyfriend anyway.”
“At Their Very Best” is an arrogant tour name, but in many ways it's true. The unique ability to both keep their fans’ eyes glued on their narrative show and keep them on their dancing feet truly earns them the right to this title. Rightfully proud and equally vulnerable, The 1975 leaves fans speculating if it’s all uphill from here.