Jeremy's Indie Music: Of Monsters And Men, Manchester Academy 18th November 2015 9/10

Of Monsters and Men was one of the first groups I came to love, and there was welcome symmetry when I found myself on the rail next to a live music newbie experiencing this magic for the first time. The success of their accessible, folk influenced style was made possible by Mumford and Sons, yet five years later, the Brit's descent into mediocre soft rock means they've fallen out of favour, along with the genre they popularised. Perhaps acknowledging this, Of Monsters and Men has emphasised the stylistic divergence in their second album: Nanna told Rolling Stone: they're 'kind of black and white – they're pretty polar opposite'. Beneath The Skin is certainly darker than My Head Is An Animal, but I don't consider it to be a radical departure musically, and my initial impression was that it lacked the euphoric, memorable melodies of their début. Yet on this first date of their UK tour, the new music sprung into life, and showed their continued relevance.

One difference that is evident in the new album is the increasingly prominent role given to Nanna Bryndis Hilmarsdottir. She leads many of the solo sections, particularly movingly in the contemplative ballad Organs, where she sings: “I should not care but I don’t know how...I take off my face ...but I leave in my heart" as the first encore. Elsewhere, much of their material is chorus driven, and the song structure predicable, with a gradual build up to the climax, though the new album gives a greater balance of mood to this set. The instrumentation is a joy: nine people on stage playing a variety of electric and acoustic instruments including trumpet, trombone, piano, and an array of percussion. An impressive light show, with LEDs arranged into the band's motif at the rear of the stage, adds to the spectacle. Of Monsters and Men owes a debt to the folk traditions and drama of the landscape of Iceland, an influence I can relate to having just returned from two weeks in the Arctic. Another theme in the lyrics is the connection between animals and people: the white outline of a bear decorated the grille of one of their guitar amps.

The five piece Norwegian group Highasakite performs on a slightly less epic scale, but this all too rare example of astute programming led to a warmly attentive reception, in contrast to the usual pervasive chatter during the support act. They were one of my highlights of Green Man 2014, and since then lead Ingrid Helene Havik seems to have gained in confidence vocally and developed her stagecraft. The set list was very similar to last year's though, and I'm impatiently for waiting new material. Like Of Monsters and Men, they combine rousing melodies with quieter, atmospheric moments, and drums are prominent. Ingrid's vocals are idiosyncratic but emotional, and the lyrics are at times odd, but I'd definitely make the effort to see Highasakite in a headline capacity. They embody the joy and freedom of their homeland.

I'd already seen Of Monsters and Men at this venue in 2013, but last night the act felt all the more apt and relevant. The atrocities in Paris at the weekend represented an attack upon happiness: the majority of the 129 victims being murdered during a concert at the Bacalan. Less than two weeks' earlier, Of Monsters and Men had played in Paris. Along Oxford Road in Manchester, the stage at The Ritz was illuminated with the Tricolor for Kurt Vile's gig, but the atmosphere at The Academy was more of escapism, once the rigorous entrance search had been forgotten. The tribute to France here was implicit, but no less powerful in demonstrating that the values of tolerance and self-expression so detested by the terrorists cannot be extinguished. Both bands received an incredibly warm and loving reception from a crowd relieved to be able find a space for pleasure amidst the darkness in the world. Whilst there was a preponderance of new songs, the celebratory spirit reached its climax in the Lakehouse and Little Talks, which became a collective sing along. This gig has led me to re-evaluate Beneath The Skin, and consider its lack of originality to be less important than the considerable skill of execution. It may not the the type of album to excite Pitchfork, but it's made for the very sort of festivals and mass parties fundamentalists seek to intimidate us into abandoning.