Over the past year, I've been discovering that life can be fun, and that pleasure is something to celebrate, not feel Protestant non-conformist guilt about. An epitome of my recent process of enlightenment is
Cut Copy: I discovered them at Coachella, and
memories of the Mojave Tent back in April are still vivid. When I found that the Melbourne electro pop / rock group were coming to Manchester, I cleared my schedule. This
Warehouse Project event was intended to be a late night rave, (literally) underground, but the City Council, who've evidently not yet understood the value of fun, denied its licence, and instead it took place in the familiar setting of the University's Academy.
The first half of the set was dominated by the 2011 album
Zonoscope, and Take Me Over was particularly upbeat. Cut Copy's masterpiece though is the 2008
In Ghost Colours, and it was during these numbers that the crowd really transitioned into a state of bliss. It can be difficult for electronic acts to match the production values of their albums in concert, but observing Cut Copy at very close quarters from the front rail made me realise that they're a hybrid electronic and rock act, with electric or even acoustic guitars crucial to the mix. The one disappointment of the evening was the vocal balance: from my position, it was recessed, and Dan Whitford's voice sounded surprisingly weak, and slightly off pitch from time to time. In fact, the support band
Spector's lead Fred Macpherson was stronger vocally, but whilst he contended professionally with a half empty venue, I felt his colleagues failed to give charismatic backing to match.
By the time Cut Copy came on stage, the hot, compact basement was absolutely packed. Dan Whitford was akin to a conductor, with the audience his orchestra and choir. Without prompting, everyone sang along to the anthemic melodies with all their hearts. The atmosphere was similar to that of a religious revival: we were guided to momentary euphoria by the build and release of the songs, rapt, under the invigorating spell of music. There was minimal talking between songs, aside from the odd instruction to dance; yet this was hardly necessary, as the band's energy was utterly infectious. The highlight was
Lights and Music, which whipped the crowd up into a frenzy. The bass was thunderous, but it was not only this which made for a physical experience, but the dancing of the crowd packed closely around me.
This indoor setting was infinitely more mundane than Coachella, and yet the power of this collective musical experience is to transport those who submit to it to another place. Day to day existence is totally shut out, and even afterwards, you're given a new perspective on the world, as if enlightened or spiritually energised. Mundane professional concerns become less of a burden, and you start to ponder more profound issues instead. There was a riot of dancing, jumping, raising of hands and clapping which have made for physical tiredness as I write this; yet more important is the incredible emotional regeneration. Music can indeed be a powerful form of therapy. I hope it's not too idealistic to express the view that the togetherness exhibited here forms an alternate view of the way society could be organised. The expressions on the mostly young faces I saw walking outside betrayed a love and joy which give hope for the future direction of our planet.
I didn't notice anybody taking video footage of this event: it was all about savouring the moment. If you want to understand yourself how Cut Copy can change your life for the better, you'll need to seek them out yourself. Last week,
Bon Iver's show was far superior from a dispassionate, technical perspective, yet at that event I was a spectator, not a fundamental part of something amazing, as I was at Cut Copy.
Set List
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