When Keo headlined Liverpool’s Sound City back in May, it seemed a rather premature decision beforehand. At the time, they had only one EP to their name, riding more on buzz alone than anything concrete. That, evidently, was enough. They had a packed-out, fiercely dedicated crowd for their set, already telegraphing the phenomenon they’d balloon into over the following months. Ever since, Keo’s name has been inescapable, shooting upwards with the nonstop high-profile appearances, and a debut album Put A Smile On For Me that validated everyone’s hopes for them. It runs even deeper, too; it’s hardly a coincidence that the UK indie scene has seen an influx of grungier, more bellicose names cropping up and making waves. Perhaps it’s not entirely Keo’s doing, but with tonight’s crowd’s brand loyalty to a Kangol flat cap, you can’t rule it out.
Chalk up the affinity for Brooki to that if you want, too. They’re a band with no officially released music, and yet, that doesn’t appear to be a hindrance when they go down a treat. ‘Irish indie-rock’ band is a fortuitous combination of attributes these days, for sure, but credit to them—Brooki do have some legit ability behind them. Sarah Brookfield is the main attraction, with a strong, strident voice that’s already imbued with some real professionalism. Nothing about Brooki feels like a work in progress; they’ve really set themselves up well. From the slinky growl of 16, to the waves of atmosphere on Little Portland Street, and the meaty, clenched closer Amber, there’s a selection of grunge cuts here primed for a whole lot. Given the current alt-rock climate, that wouldn’t be a shock at all.
Furthermore, it’s nice that Brooki aren’t just a barrier to the main event, but when they’re done and every spare moment is filled with chants of “Kee-oh! Kee-oh!”, you just have to accept the reality of the situation. Keo are the band within the O2 Academy’s walls, and for an hour-and-change where barely a foot is put wrong, they show it. Be Happy opens with it monstrous, roiling guitars and bass; Pistol immediately after calms down a tad, but the hook that peels out is still enormous. All the while, the transition from record to stage is accomplished without a hitch. It kind of has to be, to bring out the pinnacle of Finn Keogh’s holler that’s already fully-formed rockstar fodder.
It’s also nice to see how Keo’s flame hasn’t been stamped out by an increasingly mainstream presence. There’s a nice crack of electricity running through them, whether that’s in their simulacrum of old grunge energy, or simply how much the prickle of crowd excitement gets to them. As a frontman, Keogh does have a quiet charisma to his body language, never as loud as his voice but enthused nonetheless. That’s hardly a surprise when even a song like Spent On You—spare and yearning, for the most part—is beefed up immeasurably from thousands of additional voices. You could say the same about Thorn, too, but that’s such a nailed-on anthem in its own right that it can easily stand on its own. When the final chorus avalanches down, it’s an all-timer, plain and simple.
Honestly, the lift that Keo give to entirely straightforward rock music deserves so much credit. There’s a reality where, in the wrong hands, these songs could utterly pedestrian, bereft of the intense love they have. In this one, however, That’s Me is as tight and propulsive as meat-and-potatoes music gets, and even older songs are free of shakier, shoddier footing. I Lied, Amber, a pre-album cut, is welcomed rapturously, and remains a sturdy, well-realised part of Keo’s canon. That’s the thing—for the duration of this set, there’s such a universally solid core on display that you’re almost left to wonder what’s next. Keo will continue to grow, no doubt, but as for ‘getting better’? There’s no obvious area that needs polishing or buffing out; they’re already as consummate as it gets.
It’s just as hard to pick a true highlight as it is to isolate a flaw. Loser comes close, accompanied by sweeping lights as it grows into its sickly, seething grunge wallow. There’s also the aforementioned Thorn and a similar bit between the teeth much later on Fly. Even their cover of The Doors’ The End shows off a darker, decrepit side that mightn’t get as much play elsewhere. It’s just all-around great, never missing a step while avoiding even remotely being clinical, and spearheading mainstream rock music in a way that has true benefits. They’re only going to keep at it, too; there’s already an even bigger tour pencilled in for March next year. At this rate, don’t be surprised if that, too, gets upsized before long.
Words by Luke Nuttall
Photos by Will Robinson (Instagram)
