They cut a bold figure these days, Editors. Not that they haven’t always, to a point. But the band we first saw at the Highbury Garage a few years ago – a venue roughly the size of the stage alone in the cavernous Alexandra Palace – seemed too wiry, too concerned with pinpoint incisions over vast, sweeping impressions, to hint at a future in this kind of league. But here they are, an ocean of devotion swelling in front of them, searchlights erupting from source in bold shafts, cutting through swathes of dry ice and picking out their fitting silhouettes, as rumblings befitting the drama complete the picture. It really suits them. And it’s the same songs that make an impression tonight that got them here in the first place. Which puts us right, we suppose.  But then the power of their first few singles was always awesomely immediate – ‘Bullets’ confirms this as it leaves the traps early on, potent and reinforced. The dour-disco of that song though isn’t really their benchmark any longer, especially since the release of second album ‘An End Has A Start’. Sure-footed, solemn gothic pop, perhaps too gallant to be considered balladry, but certainly owing a great deal to Coldplay’s ascendance for theirs. We’re a little surprised then that this isn’t necessarily an impression left by the accompanying live show. There’s a negative-image lucidity to proceedings, Chris Urbanowicz pirouetting mechanically around the stage as his guitar scythes acerbically through a grave bed of bulky indie pulled this way and that by Tom Smith’s astoundingly weighty vocal. Really it’s Tom’s voice that is key to their success in this setting; booming importantly, compassionately and quivering with an emotional inflection so commanding that you immediately assume credibility for it. This is underlined by a touching rendition of ‘Push Your Head Towards The Air’ – just acoustic guitar, piano, his gloriously overwrought baritone and a hush over the arena. And though his overzealous mannerisms might call you to question his sincerity from time to time – magnified now by huge screens – he never falters in his delivery, and we tend to believe him. Trying to place the experience, both visually and audibly, no sooner than we’d settled on The Cure’s bleak stadium-grandeur as a reference point they pace into a proud and corroborating cover of ‘Lullaby’. It is, aside from proof that they haven’t quite got a bass-line as convincing in their own canon, art literally imitating art. It almost inevitably fits beautifully into their set. But then Editors have never been shy about their influences, often throwing Talking Heads or REM covers into their live sets, which should really put pay to those who try to characterize them as no more than second rate Joy Division copyists – which probably say more about the lack of imagination on the critic’s part. Superficially things might have little variance, we get the idea very quickly, but there’s a depth beneath the immediate surface that we can’t help but be drawn in by, right to the very close of an epic “Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors” with drums so forcefully felt they threaten to dislodge Ally Pally from its perch high over London.
    Relevant sites:
http://www.editorsofficial.com
Report by James Berry for Crud Magazine 2008©
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