The second Wednesday of July saw me make another visit to Kew for the same reason I did the time before: The Human League.
Having last seen them from an elevated distance at Wembley’s OVO Arena, it was good to once again get up close and personal by the barriers, my preferred way to see them (or pretty much any other band, come to think of it).
Prior to their set, Sheffield’s synthiest had strong support from London/Lancashire contemporaries Blancmange. Between Neil Arthur’s crisp, polished vocals and Finlay Shakespeare’s keyboard wizardry, they put on yet another strong set, perhaps even stronger than last year’s headline set at the Islington Assembly Hall. Time being rather more limited than that venture, they stuck to the staples —’Blind Vision’, ‘Living on the Ceiling’, ‘Don’t Tell Me’, ‘Waves’—whilst sprinkling in some of their more recent material such as ‘Reduced Voltage’, ‘Some Times, These’, and ‘Last Night, I Dreamt I Had a Job’, the latter once again leaving me wondering, as someone living the dream, if Neil had been left haunted by a stint at an Amazon warehouse.
Once again, Neil took the opportunity to showcase what I can only call his trademark dance through the instrumental sections of certain songs, and, in summat of a surprise, the Blancmange Basket, the band’s visual motif, made a special crowdsurfing guest appearance. Sadly, ‘That’s Love, That It Is’, another firm playlist favourite, remains conspicuously absent from proceedings. I wonder how many more sets I’ll have to see live before striking lucky on that score.
As for the League, they put on yet another solid headline show packed full of bangers, even if the setlist was a bit less adventurous than previously attended outings. No ‘Life on Your Own’, ‘Path of Least Resistance’, or ‘The Things That Dreams Are Made of’ this time around, and my deep-cut cravings continue to go, unsatiated, but the setlist reliables, including ‘Mirror Man’, ‘The Lebanon’, and ‘Tell Me When’, continue to sound bold and vital thanks to that unapologetically old-school synthwork and the pipes of Phil and the girls, namely Sue and Joanne, even if Oakey occasionally got croaky at certain points (‘Louise’ springs to mind). Between-song engagement was again dominated by Sue, who made a point of congratulating the girlfriend of keytarist Ben on her graduation and enquiring as to the seeming sale of holidays at venue stalls.
In regard to the vocalists, the wardrobe department once again had a veritable field day. Phil’s initial ensemble and Sue’s black number were definite standouts, though this time around, Jo’s encore garms, usually the cherry atop the League Sundae, weren’t quite the sumptuous showcase of previous tours. Still, I’d say there were more hits than misses in that department.
So once again, another excellent, though not mindblowing, showing from the League, who continue to confirm the potency of their synthesis of synth and soulfulness. By contrast, the merch stall confirmed their aversion to making money by shutting up shop before the set’s end, keeping a tour shirt out of my reach and leaving me wondering if I’d have better luck if I attended the Brighton show the following fortnight….
~MRDA~
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