“We’re having an after party, somewhere in town,” drawls
Harrison Koisser, amidst chants of his name, as his band Peace reach the ending
track of their encore. “If you’re not comin’, then you've gotta use all your
remaining energy now.” And with that, the band fire into World Pleasure, only
to have to stop after a minute when the surging throng of stage invaders
becomes too much for the tiny surface to handle. Koisser vanishes and it looks
like the show has come to a premature conclusion, but after the last straggler
has fallen back into the mass and the house lights have gone up, there’s a
swish of a fur coat, and he’s back, centre stage, to the roar of the crowd,
grinning like a madman with the smile threatening to split his face in half.
“That’s the fucking best stage invasion of the whole tour,”
he tells the sell-out multitude, a sea of bodies that, despite the harsh winter
snow outside, are dressed in what looks like their Leeds Festival gear from
last year; tight crop-tops, a concerning number of hot pants, flower headdresses
and glitter. Certainly, whilst there is an age spread, the vast majority of the
crowd appear to not even be yet of university age, that college niche who, like
many others in the past twelve months, discovered Peace at the end-of-exams,
rite-of-passage festival after GCSEs and A levels, when they played a Main
Stage slot underneath Arctic Monkeys.
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| The show poster for Peace at Brudenell Social Club, Leeds, 2015 |
It’s certainly a younger, and indeed smaller crowd to what
the band played when they last visited in the city out of festival, when they
played to a near-capacity crowd at Leeds Beckett University’s Student Union.
Their show there was a sign of things to come; musically tight with little room
for deviation, Koisser’s vocals near-impeccable and the ability to conjure an
electrifying atmosphere from every corner of the room. The downside of that
show, in early December of 2013, was a patchy sound-system (something that
badly affected support Drenge and rendered their music into a screeching noise
verging the wrong side of tuneful) and a lighting show that did nothing except
illuminate the audience in strobe lighting sporadically. Fast-forward nearly
fourteen months, and on the back of an acclaimed support run with Bombay
Bicycle Club, Peace have honed their stagecraft, learnt the subtle elements of
illumination and, perhaps down to the choice of venue tonight, fixed up quality
issues for the listeners.
The venue is the Brudenell Social Club, a favourite in these
parts for its warm, homely feel. It’s out of the city centre and considerably
smaller than the Beckett Union; a capacity of four-hundred against
one-thousand-one-hundred. Peace could have played two shows here and they still wouldn't have matched the amount who attended the show at the latter venue. But
their current tour – the J’Adore Tour,
in the build-up to and around the release of second album Happy People, has done the opposite of what normal artists would do;
instead of promoting themselves further up the venue chain (Peace could
probably have a decent crack at the O2 Academy in town, with a capacity of
around 2,300, and sell-out), they have instead regressed down to venues under
five-hundred capacity, with multiple night-stands, to help conjure a feeling of
intimacy with the crowd. The Brudenell stop is one of very few on the tour
where only the single show is booked, which makes it hot property; touts are
everywhere on the outskirts, wheeling and dealing in the flurries of snow that
periodically burst out of the navy skies above.
Support act Carnabells are a local bunch, and they breeze
through half-an-hour of moderately enjoyable but ultimately somewhat
forgettable rock music. There’s nothing offensive about them, but nothing
sticks out as memorable on a first time listen and the crowd applaud politely
at intervals. That said, they carve a spot in that keyboard-backed pop rock
niche that is beginning to make a revival so don’t expect it to be the last you
see of them. One or two numbers know their way around a hook and a lick; it’s
simply a case of sustaining interest past the three minute songs.
And so, at quarter past nine, the main attraction take to the
very small stage nestled in the corner of the Brudenell. Draped in fur coat,
Koisser wastes no time, propelling the band forward into fan favourite Higher Than The Sun, followed sharply by
Follow Baby. Both rapturously received,
they then take the ballsy call of playing five tracks from the unreleased Happy People in quick succession. It’s a
gamble that pays off spectacularly; reaction to Gen Strange is strong, and an intense scream follows the intro do
their most deliciously direct pop song yet, Lost
On Me, with its chant-along chorus over a distinctly funked-up bass line,
backing vocals and guitar work that suspiciously recalls psychedelica and
late-era Bee Gees. Fellow new cut Money
rounds out the portion of new material for now. The band – Koisser’s brother
Samuel on bass, Douglas Castle on fellow guitar and Dominic Boyce on the drums –
are all as integral parts as Koisser himself, and are well-drilled and tight,
bar the occasional misstep, but there is the sense that for a band whose live centrepiece
is a wildly progressive rock-influenced jam around the Binary Finary hit 1998 (Delicious), there is no real
experimentation musically on stage, and that such musicianship gives them a
static feel, no matter how fine it is.
Festival favourite California
Daze follows and girls take to the shoulders of boyfriends to holler along
before 1998 arrives to cue a frenzy
of circle pits and reckless abandon, bodies hurling around whilst some take
refuge on the sofas at the edges to avoid the gyrating melee. It’s an undoubtedly
impressive spectacle, and, as mentioned, gives the band a feel of fluidity that
can only come from genuine spontaneity or incredibly precise practice; Peace’s methodical
approach to their performance suggests that it’s the latter. Bloodshake comes next, from the band’s
original EP, EP Delicious, its
distinctively Foals-tinged rhythms keeping up the frantic pace, before the band
wheel out In Love tracks Float Forever (a personal favourite) and
Sugarstone before wrapping up the
main set with breakthrough song Wraith. One immediate victory over their
Beckett gig is set length; they have eclipsed their total set length of
fifty-five minutes last time with an encore to spare.
The break from the stage isn’t long and the band return with
new tracks Someday and I'm a Girl before launching into one of
the decade’s best two-minute tracks, the euphoric Lovesick, a condensation of what Peace do best in a quick snippet;
joyously unbridled packets of indie rock with tropically funky tinges at the
edge. One stage invasion later, and Koisser and co finally get into the groove
of World Pleasure, before departing
the stage for good. It’s been a breath-taking set, just under an hour and a
half long, that has showcased the band to the best of their ability, and with
the way they are poised for stardom, possibly the last chance many will get to
see them this close. That being said, Peace still feel like they are missing
something live. They've carved a great image as a tight live band; but, perhaps
too tight for their own good. Perhaps a little loosening up could go a long
way.
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