“Of course it has to start raining now,”, I hear a defeated observation grunted next to me as Willow, photographer in chief for the night and let’s not forget, friend, points at the queue of people standing in an orderly snake on one of the busiest sidewalks in London. In different circumstances, a rainshower would have been welcomed with joy, cheer, even, given the heat that has been plaguing the city for the past month – as reported by tens and tens of Instagram stories I swiped through while I was perishing myself in different kinds of heat across mainland Europe. But I digress.
Why we are all lined up at Oxford Street is made clear to every pedestrian by the multitude of Bastille t-shirts on sight – something that, I must point out, pins this as one of the most merchandise-heavy crowds I have witnessed in a long while. There is something so nostalgic about the simplicity of fans rocking up to a show in nothing but old artist merch.
Celebrating Dork Magazine’s 100th issue, the British band is set to play a show for just over 300 of their most dedicated fans at The 100 Club. With this being the group’s first headline show in eighteen months, and one of their smallest sets in over a decade, the excitement is palpable. And not just from the air getting thicker and hotter the closer one got to the stage downstairs.
Kicking off the night is Liang Lawrence, a London-based singer-songwriter, whom I have had the pleasure of seeing live on multiple occasions, something I feel is imperative to point out, given this specific time, my enjoyment was spoiled by events that I am about to share. “I feel awkward about sitting down, and I wanted to talk to you about it,”, Lawrence herself shares early on in her set as she adjusts on her centre stage stool. Ironically, I too feel awkward about something: the crowd’s behaviour during the opener’s entire set. Not once did a group standing by the bar manage to keep quiet or, at the very least, take their chitchatting outside for a smoking area debrief. But Liang soldiers on, delivering a beautiful set alongside her two band members, Scarlet Halton and Coby Tom. Between an unreleased song and another (her newest EP ‘It’s A Funny Thing’ is set to release this September), she confesses she used to be part of an acapella group at age eleven. “We used to sing [Bastille’s] songs, I was popping off to that shit six years ago,”, she shares before erupting into a laugh. “That was not six years ago. I’m not seventeen! The music industry wishes I were seventeen”. Closing the set with her latest single ‘A Day Off In Margaritaville’, Lawrence graciously leaves the stage as the respectful half of the crowd cheers her on – yes, I’m not done holding a grudge just yet.
As the changeover hits, Willow and I establish that 1. she needs a cigarette and 2. we both need a break from the obnoxiously talkative crowd. Though the rain has stopped, the air outside feels nearly as sticky as it does inside the basement of 100 Oxford Street. Time is ticking, and the space is getting tighter by the minute.
At 21:05 sharp, we bravely make our way through. The crowd is only a few rows deep, as both the venue and the stage are wider than you could possibly imagine, and yet parting it feels like a mission. I’m shining and waving my phone’s torch in the air and on the ground, asking people to make a path for my friend. “It’s just the first three songs,”, she explains as she bravely gets to the very crammed stage without me. “I promise I’m getting out of y’all’s hair soon,”, I tell everyone around me.
Eight minutes to go. An “Ouch!”, followed by a buzz and a “Oh no…”. The girl next to me just had a strand of her hair pulled out of her head by a handheld fan someone behind her was holding a little too nonchalantly. The irony of my previous comment is not lost on me. We might be in the trenches.
And then, fashionably late by one mere minute, the members of Bastille make their way on stage. “Loads of new haircuts?????”, I frantically type into my phone as one by one Kyle Simmons, Charlie Barnes (honorary Bastille), Chris Wood, Will Farquarson, and finally, Dan Smith, find their places on the notes of the night’s opening track ‘Good Grief’. The energy is immediately so high you’d think it maxed out on song number one. The crowd is loud, sings along, and finally erupts in a combination of cheers and claps as soon as the instrumental comes to an end.
“Happy birthday to Dork!”, exclaims Smith as he greets the crowd. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”, promptly exclaims back one fan. Smith’s birthday was a couple of days prior, July 14th. Yes, Bastille Day. And to the guy standing behind me who reacted in disbelief at the news: yes, Bastille Day is a thing, and no, it is not a thing because of this Bastille.
“It’s been a while, but it’s very, very, very nice to be back. And we’re trying to think about what to say about this next song because it’s so fucking hot in here,”, jokes Smith. A gasp leaves my mouth as the band starts playing the intro to ‘Warmth’, a track from their 2016 album ‘Wild World’ that I never would have expected to experience live “IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025”, as chaotically noted in my phone.
Bastille’s commitment to their craft is, as always, reflected not only in the energy they carry themselves with on stage, but also in their live arrangements. From a new acoustic intro on their 2019 single ‘Quarter Past Midnight’ to a completely new approach to their EDM hit ‘Happier’, the band is never scared to try out something new at their shows. A boldness that reflects in Smith himself, who in recent years has shown to be more and more comfortable in showcasing his vocal aerobics. As Willow points out, he is “so Céline Dion-coded”. With a much stronger British accent, may I add.
Perhaps such changes would not be brought upon their concerts as frequently without the support of crowds as enthusiastic as Bastille’s are. And unfortunately, at times, devoted crowds can be synonymous with stand-offishness. As someone who has personally only ever had positive experiences with Bastille crowds, I was very surprised by the overall vibe of the one at the Dork show.
From side eyes and confrontational remarks to Willow’s presence at the barricade for her three-songs-photography-duties, to the relentless chattiness of the bar-side group, the energy felt quite off. Yes, like I said, I am holding a grudge. I simply can’t stress enough how disruptive people can be when they forget they’re attending an actual show that people paid money to attend, and not a karaoke night at some random pub in Shoreditch. And Liang, if you’re reading this: it wasn’t you, it was them.
But back to Bastille. Something else the band has been very committed to is being vocal about injustice and causes they deeply believe in. And reminders of this were present at tonight’s show as well, some more subtly than others. Like Smith’s watermelon patch on an otherwise completely black tee. Or Wood’s glittery rainbow drumset. Or Simmons’ ‘RESIST’ Greenpeace tee, an organisation the band has supported many, many times throughout the years.
The show flows one pun and one incredibly charged performance after the other. “Had a good 18 months?”, asks Smith before performing their pandemic release ‘survivin’’. A beautifully lit stage throughout the entire set, the room shines even brighter as fans turn their phone flashes on during ‘Flaws’.
Seeing Bastille live is always an incredible experience, mainly thanks to the way they rework their songs so egregiously for their shows. But a Bastille gig isn’t complete until you finally, as a sense of sadness for the set coming to an end mixed with a good amount of nostalgia hits you, hear those first few “Eheu”s. And this time they’re really building to it.
As ‘Pompeii’ wraps up and the band leaves the stage, I can’t help but think about how crazy of a setlist they just played, bringing back some slightly deeper cuts they haven’t revisited in a while. And if this is even the slightest of a taste of what their upcoming ‘From All Sides’ tour – a celebration of their first 15 years as a band – is going to feel like, I am urging you all to buy a ticket, show up, and hold those triangles high up in the air.
And so the show comes to an end. House lights on, we sheepishly make our way back outside with the rest of the crowd. “You’re in the back of our photo, can you move to the side so she can pose?”, a man demands at two girls standing next to us as he points his iPhone at a woman in old Bastille merch. Willow and I exchange flabbergasted looks, hardly holding back a laugh, and without saying a word, we both know it’s time for us to wrap up the night and make our way home. We have seen enough.
Written by Benns Borgese // Photography by Willow Shields
GEM Magazine 