Of all the Britrock books that have closed over the last few years, this is the one with the most impact. Obviously. No one else from their scene’s generation got even close to the heights that You Me At Six did, and that they ultimately stayed at. And for a band like this, 20 years is a hell of a run. As easy as they’ve been to chide for losing their spark towards the end, or for shameless commerciality effectively since the beginning, You Me At Six have always had presence. The fact is, they’ve outlived peers, progenitors and pretenders, choosing to bow out now on their own terms rather than succumbing to a bursting bubble. There’s definitely respect to be given there, regardless of what your own thoughts and opinions would say about the music itself.
So to see themselves out, You Me At Six embark on the Final Nights Of Six tour, where the word ‘final’ in that name seems more or less just along for the ride. On this world tour that’s been ongoing since October, there are 37 dates in the UK alone; it doesn’t actually end until April. Clearly, this is a big deal for You Me At Six, as you’d expect for a band who’ve been counting down the days to this for a literal year. And to give them credit, it’s an impressively bold feat, more so than you’d expect from You Me At Six and their reliably magnetic star power these days. It’s almost enough to overlook some…odd discrepancies in the venue choices. Like tonight, where they’re in Liverpool’s Olympia, a venue with a 400-lower capacity than where they played the last time they were here. That’s to say nothing of the handful of Wembley Arena shows to cap off this tour and dwarf this rather shabby theatre even more.
Nevertheless, it’s a monster of a run, and You Me At Six are clearly trying to pack as much heat as possible. As you’ll no doubt have seen from the poster that’s a Herculean effort in itself to decode, there are 17 support acts across this bill being rotated around for a few days each. It’s good to see how much conscious effort has gone into platforming the biggest risers who’ll stand in their stead. The likes of Kid Kapichi, Dead Pony and Mouth Culture really feel like openers in the right window between nailed-on future forerunners, and acts for whom this extra push on such an enormous scale will still make a difference.
As for us tonight, we begin with Daytime TV, a far cry from being nu-Britrock’s strongest soldiers. They carry the utilitarian presence of The Hunna-lite on record at the best of times, translated flawlessly and with equal non-effect to the stage. Will Irvine acts as the nucleus of this nonplussedness, either trying to too-cool disaffection or rockstar posturing, neither of which feel remotely believable when they’re blanketed by the most pedestrian indie-rock known to man. The occasional higher tempo or sharper bassline is a minisculely appreciated concession, and drummer Gareth Thompson has a bit of elasticity to him (even if he is hanging off the side of the stage). Otherwise, band seldom go through the motions as hard and fast as this.
At least with Mallory Knox, for as equally milquetoast as they are, have songs that take flight and that, y’know, you know. This is the other side of You Me At Six’s cavalcade of supports—Britrock buddies who’ve recently come out of retirement like The Blackout and, apparently, Not Advised. For Mallory Knox, any rust is fully gone now, thanks to the last year of proving themselves as a mighty capable alt-rock name within their little niche. There are few trimmings to cut back for a support set, as they perfectly acclimate themselves with just a seven-song run, pouncing out with Ghost In The Mirror and continuing full-steam from there. Mikey Chapman is clearly delighted to be here, where his appreciation for tonight’s headliners and his recollections of discovering them on MySpace clearly informs his demeanour and performance. He’s nice and big and bold as you’d want, wisely sticking to the most immediate of the band’s hooks to squeeze the most from a half-hour that still feels too short. Lighthouse comes out of the blue to end when it feels like things are just ramping up, but it’s understandable. There are bigger matters at hand, after all, and a lean, proficient display of everything that Mallory Knox do best still hits right.
Said bigger matters really feel like they’re ramped up, too. As they open with Room To Breathe, there’s an intense blue and white from You Me At Six’s lighting rigs, a visual shorthand for massive impact. From that point on, it’s another good block of songs before they even properly speak to the audience; the onus is on thick-and-fast hits, with no one objecting. Rather, much of the chatter seems to saved till near the end, so much so that Josh Franceschi’s long, long recounting of his band’s origins definitely sucks the momentum out of everything for a while.(They’ve probably been around for an additional 20 years by the time it’s finished.) As Max Helyer sits on stage, acoustic guitar in hands and the opening chords of Liquid Confidence strummed repeatedly, seemingly begging to get on with things, there’s this axe taken to the pace of the set that just can’t be rectified until the encore. As a final bow-out, it’s an understandable play for wistful, nostalgic niceties, but good God, does it go on!
Fortunately, that’s where any sizable complaints begin and end. For the majority of their two hours, You Me At Six play as close to a blinder as they can, and for a band with a habit of sinking into routine sometimes, that’s not nothing. It’s nice to see relative rarities back in the set; Night People is given the runway to lean into its dirtier, seedier vibe (even if it’s overshadowed by a preluding attempt at a We Will Rock You singalong and Franceschi’s weird little veliciraptor walk, which…still no clue, to be honest). More pleasing, however, is Jealous Minds Think Alike, following the notes made from resuscitating Save It For The Bedroom and the jubilant responses it’s gotten for the last year or so. It’s evidence for how naturally You Me At Six have taken to the whole ‘a-bit-from-every-era’ setlist model. It’s an impressively democratic rundown they’ve got here, and when even songs from their worst album SUCKAPUNCH have a splash more action pumped into them, the bar for the final tour is clearly being placed to leave on a high.
Of course, You Me At Six’s floor already gives them plenty of leverage, what with the heaps of experience they’ve picked up over two decades of activity. It’s especially true of recent years, where a sizable show is their most buttery of breads-and-butters. It’s a huge, bombastic alt-rock sound, moulded into an ever-unfurling string of anthems that literally not a soul in this room doesn’t know—it’s another You Me At Six show. And yet, that’s more than enough in these circumstances. They’re always well-oiled and willing to throw themselves in, and turning that up a notch or two for the occasion does make a difference. When Franceschi hands off a chorus to the crowd or is outright drowned out by them, it only reinforces the sense of scale that You Me At Six are looking to foster. Even for something they’ve always—always!—been good at, you feel that ripple running through.
At no point does this whole endeavour not appear to want to be massive and special, in the bluntest, most unsubtle way that You Me At Six know, love and excel at. The next night at Sheffield will see Bring Me The Horizon’s Oli Sykes turn up to reprise his role on Bite Me Tongue, but even though it’s only played through a tape here, it doesn’t change that fact that it’s a titan of a rock hit. It’s similar with Reckless, where the When We Were Young interpolation towards the end is well-worn, but channelling a band of such spirit as The Killers almost feels like a cheat code to arena-rock authority. And it’s not as if You Me At Six haven’t earned that themselves, by the way. They’ll no doubt prove that one final time in a month-and-a-bit, but even tonight, in a considerably smaller room, it’s all there. Here’s a slew of songs that have been played a million times over, and yet the effort to plaster the luster back on is not just appreciated, but achieved. It’s the most significant that You Me At Six have felt in a long time, for sure.
And so, when it comes down to a finale of Underdog—arguably their signature song, and one of the most recognisable cuts that Britrock has ever produced—there’s definitely some feeling there about this being the end. For one or two leaving the Olympia, it manifests in tears; for others, it’s simply the best You Me At Six have been in a while. It wouldn’t strictly be right to say that was the ‘necessary’ outcome, but it’s the one that matters the most. You Me At Six were a formative band for so, so many, and going out on this kind of high is ridiculously satisfying to see. The band probably know that, too; they certainly will be the end of this tour. And even separated from the ‘end of an era’ narrative, it’s still two hours dedicated to crowd-pleasing in the most efficient, effective way possible. For a band like You Me At Six, for whom that’s always been their M.O., they’ve rarely done it better.
Words by Luke Nuttall
Photos by Faye Roberts (Instagram)
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