MANCHESTER ORCHESTRA DECIMATES THE PALLADIUM
Photos by Bryan Greenberg
Everyone is happy that live music is back. As people flood in the doors of the historic Hollywood Palladium, there is a palpable feeling of excitement. Concert-goers flood the merch booth, grab drinks at the bar and talk animatedly in anticipation of the start of the show.
Michigander takes the stage to an almost empty room. The lights down, the band bathed in blue light, Jason Singer is an unlikely frontman. He wears glasses, is overweight, but when he opens his mouth, the music soars. After a few songs, the audience starts to file in, captivated by the band pouring their soul into the music. At one point between songs, Singer takes a moment to address the crowd. “I know you aren’t here to see us but thank you for being here with us.” Afterward, the band rips into “Let Down” and the whole audience sings along with the chorus. By the end of their set, the floor was packed.
The deep tolling of a bell announces the arrival of Foxing. They enter shrouded in darkness to the Undertaker’s theme. Lead singer Conor Murphy oscillates between torchy vocal riffs and throat-shredding screams. The band is good but fails to make that personal connection with the audience. They are definitely “performing.” At one point Murphy thanked Michigander for both inspiring and intimidating them into raising their live game every night.
One word describes the feeling when Manchester Orchestra hits their first note, power. Strobes punctuate the raw power of the band. “Angel of Death” is a perfect opener, demonstrating the loud-quiet-loud dynamics of the band. Andy Hull’s voice is so enigmatic that it immediately grabs hold of the audience. Hull’s strange almost falsetto transports the listener directly on stage. No matter where you are in the crowd, his voice cuts through, creating an immediate bond that makes you feel like you are the only person in the room, and he is singing directly to you.
The one-two punch of “Keel Timing” and “Bed Head” makes the crowd explode, releasing the pent-up energy of two years of lockdown. The beating of your heart competing with the thumping of the bass and drums, the music literally taking your breath away. A few phones are out, but mostly it seems like people are there to enjoy the live experience, basking in the tangible and collective musical expression.
On “I Can Barely Breathe” the lights go red. The band explores the expansiveness of their sound, building, and building, only to peel away, leaving only Hull’s voice, like a wave crashing on the beach. The lights all fade, leaving only a single spotlight. Hull has traded to an acoustic guitar and treats the crowd to a double hit of “The Gold” and “The Alien.” This is a truly transcendent moment, the crowd rising and falling on every note.
“Dinosaur” becomes an epic, the band bathed in swirling green smoke. The song builds and builds, the crowd singing the chorus at the top of their lungs. The song cuts out abruptly plunging the room into darkness. Manchester finishes the set out with an incredible acoustic version of “Telepath.” The band takes their bows and walks off the stage, leaving the audience begging for more.
They don’t have to wait long before the band returns, tearing into savage versions of “100 Dollars” and “The Silence” for their encore. This perfect return fulfills every desire, taking the audience on a journey of highs and lows that leaves them completely wrung out emotionally. Manchester Orchestra is the perfect band to demonstrate why live music is so incredibly rewarding. Their power and presence can never fully be captured in a recording.