In this day and age of spiralling costs and reducing disposable income, the co-headline tour offers a fitting way to give the punter more bang for the buck. It also is a cunning ploy to mix disparate fanbases in order to fill larger more lucrative rooms. All three of tonight’s acts are well known and well regarded enough to have their own passionate following. Indeed, it is obvious that a good number of those making up the front few rows have come here this evening especially to catch Touché Amoré. Half an hour doesn’t really do their diverse and eclectic style any justice, as we get just a small glimpse of what they are capable. Their sound is based on the tension between instrumental fragility and vocal harshness. Clayton Stevens, Nick Steinhardt, Elliot Babin and Tyler Kirby create an emotive swirl of melodic noise that is part eighties indie (there is a lot of early U2 in their sound), and part Fugazi (all post hardcore eventually leads you back to Fugazi). Then laced on top of that is Jeremy Bolm’s unique vocal delivery. A halfway house between spoken word and growled delivery, it provides an evocative juxtaposition to the music that it is laid on top of. They have been doing this for enough time to look extremely comfortable in their own skin. They may be at the bottom of tonight’s food chain but they come across (and get a level of audience reaction) more akin with being a third headliner as opposed to the opening act.

Thrice start off at a real canter. The opening salvo of ‘The Colours of the Sky’ and ‘Scavengers’ from last years “Horizons/East” effectively showcases Dustin Kensrue’s velvet-esque vocal cords and the band’s distinctive brand of radio friendly alt-rock. Simultaneously intellectual stimulating and chest-beatingly sing-alongable, it feels like the bastard son of Radiohead and Nickelback (and that is meant as a compliment). The set is purposefully split into three distinct parts. The opening portion sees them unleash their more commercial anthemic compositions, living out all their repressed Stadium rock dreams. The sound is big and voluminous and fills the whole hall.  Thrice may well have been too quirky and individual to graduate to arenas but the girth of tracks like ‘All the World is Mad’ and ‘Artist in an Ambulance’ shows that they sure have the material.

The mid portion is a mini scaled down 20th anniversary celebration of “Illusion of Safety”’s release. In another reality we probably would have been treated to a full album rendition of their sophomore release. But tonight they are pegged back by their strict 70 minute time allocation and therefore we get just two tracks in recognition of its milestone Birthday.  Where ‘Idols Once Stood’ is a raw punk-infused powder keg of a track and the pit opens accordingly. ‘The Red Death’ keeps up the momentum as the euphoric audience slam into each other in a fit of joyful jubilation.

The final segment houses their more reflective and melancholic material as they display the socially inept fragility that has always been a cornerstone of their music. These are hymns for life’s misfits and under-achievers. The frantic pace of the “Illusion of Safety” celebratory passage is replaced with a much more refined and contemplative air. The three distinct passages whilst incredibly atmospheric and symbolic feel rather oddly paced. By the time they get to set closer ‘The Earth will Shake’ the frenzied ambience that had occupied the first seven songs seemed to have dissipated. Thrice are still welcomed with a crescendo of energetic intent, but the fevered response there was at first has passed. Essentially this evening was a luxurious two hour plus stroll through twenty-two years of music condensed into a breakneck 70 minute set. Whilst it was well received and well executed suffered from the fact that the band tried to do too many things in a taut time period. Thrice’s back catalogue is a of a quality where it should be savoured and tonight just felt too stuffed.

Coheed and Cambria have made a career of occupying middle the ground. Too cerebral to be power metal but too alternative to be prog they exist in that sweet spot were indie, prog, rock and hardcore meet. What is astounding about this evening is how revered they have become. Decades of not fitting anywhere has meant that they have natured their own fiercely loyal following that love them for exactly who they are. When I say love the inference is on adoration, absolute adoration. There are points this evening where the audience renditions of songs drown out the band’s and there are others where Claudio Sanchez doesn’t even bother trying to get the lyrics out, instead just providing the instrumentation for a mass karaoke session. It is hard to not understate the level of veneration that is going on tonight. This is not some simple communal sing along; this is a defiant act of ownership on behalf of the audience. As one they are declaring that this their band and no matter how un-fashionable they may be considered, they belong to each and everyone of the throng gathered in the Academy. This is beyond hero worship and out somewhere way beyond glorification. The crowd clasp every song close to their chest and clutch hold of it like it is something truly special. 

Coheed and Cambria get the same time allotment as Thrice (not a minute more and not a minute less) but manage to make use of it so much more effectively. They make no attempt to cover all the bases (Everything after 2007 and before 2018 is left in the locker-room for another day), instead we get a good smattering of new songs and the hits (more of that soon). What is really interesting is how the baying mob receive the newer material like revered old friends by. You do though get the distinct impression that they could have thrown out Mary had a little lamb, and it would have been greeted with utter euphoria and reverence. 

With so little time to play with there is no time for any sort of pleasantries and instead the band tear through the set like they are possessed by sort of speed addled spirit. It may take seven tracks to reach anything not on “Vaxis I or II” but the stupendous welcome given to “In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3” stunning title track makes any wait irrelevant. It is an utterly glorious nine minutes of musical bombastity. Big, Bold, utterly bonkers, and just sumptuous in every way. ‘Welcome Home’ is greeted with equal levels of adulation and mass hysteria and (outside of grainy black and white footage of The Beatles) it is hard to recall a crowd this hyped by what they are witnesses.

However, all good things must end, and they sign off with a frantic encore of ‘The Running Free’, delivered in the style of a glamtastic mega-anthem. What is already an over-the-top four minutes of music is ratcheted up to eleven in some mad spinal tap-esque maelstrom of pulsating versus and soaring choruses. Utterly ridiculous but simultaneously utterly wonderful. And that is the point of Coheed and Cambria and probably why they have been so taken to heart by their supporters. There is no wink wink post modern irony at play here. They are deadly serious about what they do. The whoo-hoo refrains are not there for comic effect, they are there because Claudio and co understand completely the constituent parts of a crowd-pleasing chorus.. They have taken the bits that made us love our old Iron Maiden records and removed the bits that made us cringe. This is self-aware serious anthemic metal and its utterly wonderful.

Check the “In The Flesh” page for more photos!