Wolf Alice open a duo of homecoming London shows with the help of 2018’s unlikeliest political hero: Danny Dyer. Before the band appear, a loop of the actor’s hilariously incandescent chatshow rant about the senselessness of Brexit plays while a searchlight ominously roams the stage. When the foursome do arrive, they are armed with last year’s comeback single, Yuk Foo – a flurry of nihilistic punk fury that, thanks to the judicious sampling, now seems to serve as an extended scream about the sorry state of this sceptred isle.
That inventive wink to their left-leaning values (recent years have seen the band establish themselves as enthusiastic Corbyn cheerleaders) is about as conceptually ambitious as this band will get tonight, topping off a triumphant, Mercury prize-winning year with a straightforward recital of their omnivorous indie. And that’s OK – no band needs to rely on gimmicky showmanship when they have a back catalogue as thoughtful, distinctive and straightforwardly appealing as Wolf Alice’s.
In fact, a fair chunk of the Londoners’ charm lies in their ordinariness. Though able to segue seamlessly from sweetness to snarl, vocalist Ellie Rowsell is never melodramatic or affected. She expertly dodges female rockstar stereotypes (the mystical eccentric, the self-destructive wild woman, the showbizzy tease). She instead acts as a beacon of millennial everywoman relatability, her shrewd, evocative lyrics capturing run-of-the-mill female experience in a way guitar music rarely does, covering topics from creepy male pursuers to in-flight panic attacks and the self-consciously cliched first flush of love.
The band do struggle to translate the whispered intimacy of two songs – Sky Musings and the exceptional Don’t Delete the Kisses – to the stage; the grottier, rage-ravaged end of their output fares far better in a live arena. As do their bolder, more counterintuitive tunes: Beautifully Unconventional’s awkward funk, the motorik stomp of Space & Time. In the past they were accused of indulging in 90s cosplay, but that kind of material proves Wolf Alice are a band far too self-possessed and stylistically ambitious to be branded mere revivalists. Instead, as the word-perfect young audience prove, they are reinventing rock tropes for a new generation – nailing one of the most difficult tasks in music with a trademark lack of try-hard fuss.
