Arctic Monkeys, The Grates
Thebarton Theatre
Tues 1 August


It's not meant to be like this. Facing an audience almost drowning in its own anticipation, the support turns some heads. The Grates do the only thing they can: they go for the jugular. As my first Grates experience of any kind, they're everything I expect - energetic, minimalist and immediate. The hyperactive stage presence of singer Patience embodies the music and after the initial flurry, their enjoyable set finds a groove. Throughout it, there's one recurring thought: if PJ Harvey ever records a kids album, it will sound like The Grates.

It's not meant to be like this. Arctic Monkeys take the stage as moody, blue silhouettes and open with Riot Van. Rather than be wrong-footed by the mellow start, Thebarton responds by singing. In full, glorious voice. It sounds fantastic, but there is better to come. They then slam head-first into The View From The Afternoon and the place goes bananas for the Monkeys.

It's not meant to be like this. A young band subjected to this much hype just doesn't reach the arse-end of a tour looking this fresh. Alex Turner is a star. Far from the shy, reluctant frontman expected, he wheels around the stage, throwing himself into every chord he plays. "It seems to be going well. From where I'm standing..." he smiles at one point. On a modest drum kit, Matt Helders keeps things moving, his backing vocals nearly as big a part of the band's sound as his drumming.

It's not meant to be like this. On record, Arctic Monkeys play with a vigour rarely captured. Live, they up this again. The songs sound more urgent, more convincing, more impassioned. Turner puts down his guitar for Perhaps Vampires Is A Bit Strong...and looks totally at ease. He picks it up again for the song's climax and out of the haze of feedback a Helders beat emerges and the singer's off into Dancing Shoes, the rest of the band joining in at the chorus.

It's not meant to be like this. The band is flying through the set, tight and lean, but obviously enjoying themselves. The crowd is with them all the way. Thebarton assumes vocals for the first two verses of When The Sun Goes Down and the band play along. Someone yells for their cover of Love Machine. Turner laughs and for a moment it looks like he might even play it.

It's not meant to be like this. For a buzz band of these proportions, a hip, scenester crowd was meant to congregate. But tonight's has sung, danced and cheered itself hoarse and Arctic Monkeys have responded in kind. As the feedback dies down and the band leave the stage after a superb rendition of A Certain Romance, the floor empties. This band doesn't play encores and this crowd knows it.

Wade Howland

Pic: Julie Richards