LIVE REVIEW + PHOTOS: The Blackout – Academy, Manchester – 19/02/2024

You know how they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, here’s the 12-legged proof of that.

It’s been nine years since The Blackout embarked on their farewell tour, though not disappearing off the map completely. Vocalist Sean Smith has been incredibly active, as the host of the fairly excellent Sappenin’ Podcast and sporadic music-maker in Raiders with guitarist James ‘Bob’ Davies. Meanwhile, the others have…been around, presumably? Compared to the side-eyes given to the influx of Britrockers of a similar vintage making their comebacks recently (likely a result of feeling the pinch and seeing shoring up via nostalgia points as an easy out), no such digs can be reasonably thrown at The Blackout. Live especially, they were a much bigger personality in the scene, and the music they made flourished far more onstage. An element of weaponising some halcyon teenage years can’t be written off, mind, but it’s also not taking the wheel. Some genuine excitement around their return at least points toward it, be that the venue upgrade from the 1,100-cap smaller Ritz, or some rather pronounced rumblings the likes of which haven’t been seen since the glory days of Wales’ post-hardcore dominance.

What’s more, the first date of tour brings the first in a rotating cast of openers, a new one in each city to spread the love to the up-and-comers who’ve risen in their wake. For Manchester, it’s Mouth Culture, a band that’s already operating amid some sparks of traction, for reasons that aren’t hard to deduce. Their grungy alt-rock and emo has history in catching some real air, and the confidence worn by frontman Jack Voss especially suggests the same to come. His calls for crowd interaction and participation could read as rather presumptive if there weren’t already some pretty vested interest, not too difficult for a sound that swells and crashes in ways that extend far beyond a limited profile. The equal capacity for both a decent clip and a more lush, reverberating sound only seals how much more there’ll be to come.

As for Dead Pony, that was a position they found themselves in a couple of years ago, but have since graduated from with distinction. Now their debut full-length is on the horizon, and you just tell they’re itching to be inducted into new rock’s top brass. Armed with riff-rock bred free of its punishing clunk, it’s a thick, meaty brew that Dead Pony have going for themselves. The typical selection of down-the-middle rock tropes are deftly circumvented, and instead coloured with shocks of punk and grunge and bleeding-edge alternative, in a way that’s cognisant of the zeitgeist but not bent over by it. There’s still a classic brand of rock aspiration here, in no small part courtesy of livewire frontman Anna Shields and the frankly ludicrous amounts of flair she brings (albeit the standard for the way-higher bar of Scottish alt-rock). Quibbles are exceedingly minor; the occasional bloops of production are incongruous (though never bothering), and Faces On The Wall lands with a bit of an abrupt note to end on. Otherwise, Dead Pony are destined for stardom if they can keep this up.

That’s all looking forward, though, something which The Blackout aren’t exactly doling out in spades. The last time they released anything was an actual decade ago; past glories are the lifeblood of which this reunion, and all like it, are built on. Not that anyone has even the slightest reservation about that, including the band themselves. They’re on full pelt through their biggest and best songs the entire time, in what’s not a particularly long set, but one that keeps the punches coming thick and fast. This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things is the perfect opener in that respect—one of their biggest choruses and generally warmest sounds to properly send the dopamine rushing. Then come Never By Your Side and The Devil Inside, flexing a heavier side that feels especially gnarled after being in the box for so long. Roughly ten minutes is all it takes to show just how back The Blackout are.

Honestly, they don’t miss a beat. Despite proclamations of how old and infirm they now are, Smith and Gavin Butler are the same pair of utterly dynamic frontmen they always were, maybe even pushing it a little further now. Within a few moments, Smith is already swinging is microphone around by the cord, and spitting in the air to catch it in his mouth; they’re the usual antics but there’s that tiny bit more oomph behind them. And most importantly, they’re still hilarious as showmen, with the between-song banter and ribbing as quick as ever. You can really tell that Smith has spent the last few years talking for a living when he knows exactly what to say to get a laugh or a cheer. It all contributes to the sweltering fun factor The Blackout always had over their contemporaries, with post-hardcore that’ll go the distance to be more flagrant and wild, and performers that’ll follow suit. It’s why, even though the pair’s voices are the closest thing succumbing to age, it really doesn’t matter when that proficiency has never been what The Blackout rely on.

The truth about this band is that seeing them live is the optimum way to experience their music, and that’s still true. Not only will the songs gain a few extra cuts of beef they’ll handily benefit from, but the crackle of electricity is that much more prevalent. This is a set that plays heavily on material from The Best In Town, an album that’s by no means seminal, but in plucking cuts like Top Of The World or Children Of The Night or STFUppercut, it can perhaps masquerade as such. The concentration of ‘better’ songs is apparent; Hope also gets a look in with a lot of representation, an average bumped up by the likes of Higher & Higher or Ambition Is Critical which still do sound terrific. (It’s also worth noting that anything from Start The Party is absent, hopefully to curtail any revisionism that’ll say that album wasn’t bad.) Regardless of where the set goes, though, there are truckloads of energy being poured in constantly, from Smith diving into the crowd for Children Of The Night (and subsequently breaking his mic), to Butler standing on their hands on I’m A Riot? You’re A Fucking Riot!. For self-professed old men, their spryness isn’t unnoted.

There’s something even more noteworthy, however—genuine joy. Sincerity has never been high up on The Blackout’s list of concerns, but they’ve got no choice but to let it all beam out here. You can tell they’re thrilled to be back onstage, and even more so to be doing it in front of a room this big and this full. There’s a camaraderie that lifts them up sky-high, and if 2010s Britrock must undergo a reevaluation in the coming months and years, it’ll be what continues to separate The Blackout from the chaff they blasted through even back in the day. On the first day of tour solely designed to reintroduce their era’s most entertaining, affable live act, you really couldn’t ask for more. Of all of them, time, history and the concept of a riotous live show has smiled down on The Blackout the fondest.

Words by Luke Nuttall

Photos by Faye Roberts (Instagram)