Mogwai, Albert Hall. 10th February 2023

Hold on to your ears, Mogwai are in town! I think every time I’ve seen Mogwai play in Manchester, it’s been at Albert Hall. This band in this venue seem like the perfect match. The acoustics in this room are fantastic and Mogwai are bloody loud. That’s often one of the first things people say about Mogwai and I’ve fallen into the trap. It’s not really about the volume though, it’s the power and how they shift and retain it even when not liquifying your internal organs. The room is quite rightly packed. Sometimes this can be uncomfortable, but tonight it just adds to the feeling of a warm hug emitting from the stage, as five fairly unassuming blokes confidentially set about the task of testing the foundations. Bathed in a rainbow of light they ease in with ‘To The Bin My Friend, Tonight We Vacate Earth’ which has to be one of the best song titles. The smoke rises before the sound erupts and we’re off. I’m gonna like this. In case there was any doubt. You forget how much lightness there is, ‘Dry Fantasy’ is grand and sweeping, with thick slices of synth, before ‘Summer’ unleashes the first wall of beautiful distortion, the sound attacking from every angle. A bloke behind me screams “YES!!!”. I’m with you fella. Stuart’s harmonious vocals glide us through ‘Richie Sacramento’. It’s like an indie banger. A really ferocious one and if it weren’t so packed I’d be dancing. The extended drum machine glitches of ‘2 Rights Make 1 Wrong’ give Martin a brake on the drums before Braithwaite gets to shred on ‘How to be a Werewolf’. He’s brilliant to watch, the guitar part of him as he teases pure danger from its strings. As they play ‘Ratts of the Capital’, I’m struggling to be heard at the bar. Reduced to pointing and smiling. It’s loud. Apocalyptic. I love the way ‘Mogwai Fear Satan’ starts sounding slightly out before it all kicks in. As it quiets there’s whistles of applause, they mean well but it’s annoying, I want to hear the low hum of bass. As if to say here have some of this, Braithwaite steps on a pedal and they explode. It’s a full on sensory punch. It feels like Albert Halls windows should shatter. Fucking phenomenal. ‘My Father My King’ brings us to a majestic 20 minute finale, as they flex and release the sort of majesty that only Mogwai are capable of. I say this every time, but tonight was a reminder of just how special they are. Ears left ringing. My jaw hurts from smiling. This feeling with stick with me for a while.