Casting The Chemical Brothers for the final night of the biggest music celebration in Liverpool is nothing short of a genius idea. They’ve definitely got glint. But before they could get into their rendition of an audio-visual equivalent to narcotics, there was sturdy support from Simian Mobile Disco. SMD opened the night at the early-bird time of 7:30pm, yet managed to inject a twilight atmosphere throughout the huge pavilion in Aintree. Hunched over their bleep-making machines like mad scientists, two silhouettes that preceded the double-act to follow created a club atmosphere where the crowd could let go, go wild, and disco to musical insanities such as It’s the Beat, Hustler, and Sleep Deprivation.
And on walked the Brothers, that came to produce something not just chemical, but a reaction among their onlookers, starting a rave that echoed of the 90’s fascination gone by. Arriving like beings from the outer universe and presenting their spaceship, the duo opened with Galvanise. A torrent of arms rose to the pumping violin and heavy bass, packing together a great start to what was to be a two-and-a-half hour show.
Set up like one big party in the Tardis, the whole set was energetic and borderline scintillating. A crowd injected with a cocktail of ages, there were the glow-stick beaten teens showing their love for SMD; the mid-90’s veteran followers of the main act, and the rest were everyone that caught up sometime in-between.
The eerie intro of No Path to Follow added chill to the set and was morbidly reiterated by the visual of a devilish male miming to the lyrics of Do It Again. Using a backdrop catalogue of robots, ballet dancers, cowboys and clowns, the visual aspect was an important focus to the set.
Alternating between electric and chill-out, the set momentarily hit a spiritual peak during The Golden Path. The crowd found their musical Holy Grail as streams of golden light flared across them while Ed Simons lifted his arms in an embrace not too dissimilar from some divinity embracing his followers, while Wayne Coyne vocalised: “Please forgive me/ I never meant to hurt you”.
Nothing short of a religious experience, a moon landing or indeed, a scene from Human Traffic, the Chemical Brothers held their own. The gig provoked flashbacks to their own music video for Hey Boy, Hey Girl and the dancing skeletons; that of a gangly party of moving bones going wild with a beer. It was a fine brew of musicality, delirium and exquisite elation. And with a final bow from Chemical Tom and Chemical Ed, Liverpool Music Week had its curtain called.
