Live Review: Bastille // O2 Shepherd’s Bush Empire, London, 17.11.24

“This is f****** scary” Bastille’s frontman Dan Smith admitted as he first took the stage at Shepherd’s Bush Empire on the fifth stop of the “&” (Ampersand) Live Tour. It seemed a surprising sentiment at first, considering Bastille’s enduring popularity. Smith is no stranger to performing in huge arenas packed with adoring fans ever since Bastille’s first studio album Bad Blood shot to fame over a decade ago. But this was different. Performing this raw, unfiltered album in his hometown and in front of his friends and family was as personal as it could get for Smith. In fact, intimacy and familiarity were the ruling tones of the evening as a whole, including opener Kerr Mercer’s casual banter, Smith’s own chattiness, the cosiness of the converted theatre venue, and energy of the spellbound audience. One couple even invited Smith to their wedding, which he said he would try to attend. 

The set design was also imbued with this characteristic warmth: the lighting was soft, crimson tones for most of the evening and the floor was strewn with yellow electric candles. The latter was a particularly nice touch, extrapolating from the concept of the Candlelight Sessions, which preceded the album release. The only prop pieces were a lamp — a motif lifted from the artwork accompanying each song — and a vintage-style television that displayed the corresponding illustration. The full instrumental and vocal group sat in a semicircle, and though the use of several orchestral instruments (three violins and a cello) had the potential to add an unwanted sense of formality, the way Smith bounded between instruments and other musicians swapped places with each other kept the atmosphere lo-fi and casual. 

The live instrumentalisation brought the songs of the studio album to life. When the musicians first came on, they launched into the opening track ‘Intros & Narrators’ without any preamble, instantly sparking a tingle of drama. Introductions were then followed by ‘Emily & Her Penthouse In The Sky’, a beautiful and subdued ballad with gentle fingerpicked guitar melodies. Warmed up now, the band hit their stride in ‘Seasons & Narcissus’. The strings brought a continuous ebb and flow, liltingly swelling and subsiding with the currents of the track. On the drums, Florrie brought a rockier element missing from the studio-recorded version, balancing the harmoniously flowing strings with a sense of rhythm and heaviness. The percussion also grounded Smith’s soaring, airy falsetto in ‘Drawbridge & The Baroness’. The ethereal, haunting tone of his voice expanded to fill every corner of the theatre. ‘Zheng Yi Sao & Questions For Her’ took on a more raw, grungy sound with the electric guitar becoming more distinct in the sonic mix. 

BIM, who takes lead vocals on ‘The Soprano & Midnight Wonderings’ joined for its performance and stayed for the rest of the set, offering another voice to the chorus accompanying Smith’s vocals. Nor did Smith begrudge her the limelight, graciously joining long-time collaborator and singer-songwriter Charlie Barnes on the keyboard to let her soulful, rich voice to shine as it deserved. It was clear the musicians all had a deep respect and appreciation for each other, and the performances were stronger for this emotional and musical synergy. In particular, the acoustic rendition of Bastille classic ‘Good Grief’ was goosebump-inducing. Each artist had a solo, but the highlight was when they all blended together seamlessly, pouring their hearts and souls into the song, along with the rapturously devoted audience. Stripped of its upbeat electronic elements, the melancholy heartache of the lyrics took on a new depth: it became clearer than ever that the chorus of “Every minute and every hour / I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more” was about profound loss. 

In between songs, Smith talked to the audience in the manner of an old friend, cracking jokes about the French despising how the band name is pronounced or confessing that he was afraid to sing the more vocally challenging tracks. Even when he made a false start on ‘Red Wine & Wilde’ and had to start again (“Sorry sorry sorry…a little less guitar please”), the crowd was entirely on his side. More than ever, the musicians seemed human and the connection between every person in the room became stronger. When the track did get underway, the choral effect of the backing vocals and soft orchestral instrumentals formed a polyphonous foundation for Smith’s earnest, gusty vocals. The audience sang along under their breaths, quietly but reverently. Smith repeatedly commented on the lack of noise from the audience, thanking them for their rapt, unfaltering attention. 

The whole affair was pared back, but fervently quivering with intimacy and passion, with both audience and performers recognising just how rare and special this experience was. It was a night charged with connection and kinship, perfectly reflecting an album that seeks to celebrate the complex web drawn between people, across time and place. 

Words by Jui Zaveri