Fopen your T-shirt cannons or your preset DJ; no tool entertains a crowd like a fancam. Raised on sports games and rodeos, Nashville heroes Kings of Leon know its appeal and have literally taken the title of their latest album When You See Yourself, taking the cameras deep into the Leeds arena for a mere dose. of public participation. For a good half hour before they arrive, the room fills with laughter and corny smiles, creating warmth around a group often described as impenetrably cold.
You don’t go to a Kings of Leon concert to chat, but as the two-hour opus of the night begins, their deadpan approach to performance remains their biggest Achilles heel. It’s music for gospel acolytes, but nothing seems to fully move the congregation: not the heel-tapping Taper Jean Girl, not a gorgeous rendition of Manhattan lit by kaleidoscope rainbows, and not even Fans, written specifically as an ode to England. . It’s not until a good hour later – around the point of Waste a Moment – that there are stronger signs of life from the crowd: a discarded pint during Radioactive, a lone surfer during On Call whose the enthusiasm makes singer Caleb Followill feel “good”.
It’s a shame, because it’s easily the best they’ve ever sounded. Their signature skinny jeans have long since been discontinued, but frontman Followill’s aged whiskey vocals are still glorious, their rhythm section still pulsing with powerful elastic. Knocked Up is seven minutes long in country paradise, while Pyro, a dismal and neglected gem from 2010, has gotten even prettier over the years, a testament to a band that seems determined to fully honor their 20 years in the band. story.
As if to further prove this point, they end with Sex on Fire. A song they once described as “a piece of crap”, its continued presence may be a gesture of goodwill. But when even such an obvious single fails to fully ignite, what more can they really give to an arena? Maybe it was the boredom of the fans, maybe it was the fear, maybe it was just the unfulfilled desire to hear more new songs than old ones. The Kings of Leon seem doomed to be seen as distant, and perhaps tonight’s static audience may not have seen enough similarities between them and the artist to meet them halfway.
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