It is all very well striving for the wow factor. But diving off the first floor balcony on to the heads of the crowd below, as the Subways singer Billy Lunn did on Tuesday, is surely taking it to suicidal (and possibly homicidal) extremes. And of all the venues to attempt such a stunt! Renowned for its “zero tolerance” of crowd surfing, and its officious stewards who come and tap you on the shoulder if you dare to stand for even a moment on one of the stairways, the Empire is not exactly a gig that encourages reckless behaviour. But policing the crowd is one thing. Controlling a band like the Subways is quite another.
The trio from Welwyn Garden City have always performed with explosive abandon. Now they have reached the bigger stages, they just do it to even greater extremes. A closely interlinked gang comprising Lunn (vocals and guitar), his brother Josh Morgan (drums), and Lunn’s fiancée Charlotte Cooper (bass and vocals), they interacted as if each of them was on a mission to outdo the other. Whenever Lunn was busy behind the microphone, Cooper would be spinning, running and headbanging across the stage like a lunatic. Then as soon as Lunn was free, he would be climbing the speakers, leaping from on top of the drum kit or diving head-first into the crowd. Morgan, meanwhile, thrashed his minimalist kit — which incorporated just the one cymbal — with a wild, physical flamboyance.
The wonder of it was that they not only looked entertaining, but sounded every bit as outrageously good. Along with old favourites from last year’s debut album, Young for Eternity, they showcased several new songs bound for their forthcoming second album. Girls & Boys began with an industrial-strength riff, that could have belonged to the Irish group Ash, while Shake Shake and Kalifornia both boasted infectious rock grooves and instantly sticky choruses. There was also a rare performance of 1am, one of their earliest singles, alongside more familiar staples such as Oh Yeah, Holiday and Somewhere.
The show flashed past, and it seemed like no time at all before they had reached the final encore of Rock & Roll Queen and Lunn was on his way up the back stairs to the balcony. Having miraculously survived his airborne descent to crowd level, he clambered back on stage and promptly threw himself headlong on top of the drum kit which collapsed beneath him. Exciting, certainly, but there was a decidedly nervous undercurrent to the crowd’s farewell cheer.