Live Review: The Blaze // Roundhouse, London

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In recent years, you may have felt, Britain has decided to walk its own path, several steps apart from the state of culture on the larger continent. How you decide to process this is up to you, but are we not already privy to the idea of divergence for the sake of divergence, raised on safe interpretations of GCSE classic ‘The Road Not Taken’. Have we since lost the ability to step back and self-examine, in favour of inventing a narrative that feels more deliberate, more comfortable to swallow?

 

Tuesday saw Parisians The Blaze return to a Pan-European identity long missed by an English stage. A mix of hiking-jacket wearing, Asics-toting Europeans came together in celebration of the salvia trip of a concert to follow. The initial mood was open, easily swayed, lit up in orange with a hesitation to start. Running late added to that sense of uncertainty, I guess.  And then, in a spectacular display of arts and lighting, the stage opened up to announce the main act.

 

The Blaze, I feel, could have felt more at home as part of Barcelona’s recurring Llum BCN March festival of lights, or maybe in one of the have-a-go exclusive venues dotted across Paris. And yet, the audience lapped it up. An occasional wave of camera phones jumped on the opportunity to capture new and exciting feelings, but people remained respectful throughout the performance, cheering between songs but otherwise processing the experience internally.

 

The concept was supported by a collection of soft background videos – pictures of faces, moons, trees, fire – all very natural and suggestive. Still, the act didn’t feel political; the limited interaction between act and audience came through in gesture alone. The Blaze maintained an air of professionalism, a dedication to the performance that set the tone for the evening: this was something really quite special.

 

Vocally, the duo hit every note. The mixing warranted no criticism, although unfamiliarity stood out in an arena of that size, with that ever-so-slight disconnect from the stage. The pair played around with their own songs until the very end of the night, inviting new moods and interpretations, but managing to preserve an identity somewhere along the way.

 

An act situated in the middle of an over-saturated market for French electronica, The Blaze did away with false narratives about roads less travelled, instead focusing on creating something bigger. Diverging not for the sake of divergence, but to say something interesting, the show gave a small insight into what can still be experienced at a British venue on a cold night in March.

 

Words by James Reynolds

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