Years and Years

From the opening moment to the very last Years and Years had the audience captivated. It was a polished performance for sure and each number was delivered with undeniable energy. Energy is at the very heart of this high fuelled pop, that and the undeniably charismatic Olly Alexander, a slinky satyr like pop pixie, a dangerous blend of teen angel and little devil, gliding around the stage in an endless slithering dance that makes him look at least double jointed if not demonic. And that’s just how he looks, the guy can certainly sing, his voice soaring into a falsetto that he can truly control, not just in pitch but in tone and in felxibility – this is virtuosic talent for sure – and tireless too, he never falters in a set of nearly 90 minutes, yes 90 minutes of gruelling vocal pyrotechnics and dance.

And the dance too is superb, his four performers not just pop puppets bobbing along to the beat, but four dancers who would not look out of place in any contemporary ballet company each delivering the sort of complex and avant garde choreograohy that one might expect from a Rambert or Michael Clarke production.

The band are equally disciplined, the sound is full, pounding but never muddied by the high volume required or should I say loved by audiences. It was loud yes but not ear-bleedingly so.

If I had one cirticism of an otherwise flawless evening it would be that for me, the visuals were nowhere near as exciting as the dance, the projections and graphics seemed just a little cliched, beautifully rendered yes, but just a little predictable. That might seem harsh but when everything else is so brilliant it stands out.

Overall though Years and Years are pretty and pretty amazing too, Olly tantalisingly ambiguous in appearance, teasingly gay but not overtly so as he flirts and plays with the dancers and it’s easy to see why he is  worshipped by his adoring (and very young) audience.

The Brighton Centre

4 December

Andrew Kay

[rating; 4.5/5]