After reluctantly ordering an Uber to the Edinburgh Corn Exchange and paying an eye-wateringly steep price for a can (not even a pint) of cider, I was counting on The Wombats to turn my night around. Following on from their two support acts, the band started out ironically with ‘Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come’, one of their biggest hits, setting a precedent for the punchy, upbeat setlist to come.
A four-piece group, The Wombats consist of Matthew Murphy, Tord Øverland Knudsen and Dan Haggis. They have been playing together for over 20 years, making their debut in 2003 when they were only teenagers. Throughout their long
discovery, the band have received steady praise and success, with their latest album Oh! The Ocean holding 4th position in the UK charts for a week following its release.
There’s no denying that The Wombats have a vast and loyal fanbase; with 20 years’ worth of music, a mixed crowd for their concert was expected. I hadn’t, however, planned to end up on the outskirts of a mosh pit started by a gang of 16-year-old boys. By the end of the set, though, it was clear they were merely following The Wombats’ example. With many lyrics alluding to the 1980s/90s rave scene and the guitarist banging his head for the entire evening (I felt dizzy just looking at him) both the band and many supporters clearly thought they were in an edgy warehouse club, not the converted Corn Exchange.
Furthermore, looking out into a sea of a couple thousand die-hard fans, the band made very little effort to interact with the crowd, barely moving an inch throughout the entire set. In any concert the most important part is of course the music, but The Wombats overly relied on it to do all the talking. The key to live shows is the intimate sphere between band and fans – a connection that cannot be forged by digital streams – so why ignore this? Of course, the iconic wombat mascots took to the stage a few times for a boogie with the band and this brought huge excitement to the crowd, but this also happens every single show The Wombats perform — it’s a staple. Any conversation that did come from the band was impersonal and mumbled, primarily consisting of “thank you” and “fucking”. For a band with such success and longevity, I expected more. Yes, their fans will still leave the show hyped, having heard their favourite music live, but a concert really becomes a performance when artists include and surprise their fans, offering a unique listening experience.
Nearing the end of their hour and a half long set, the band delivered a first in my concert history – they announced their own encore, consisting of not just one, but two songs. The pre-warning of the encores was a dampener as when they left the stage, the audience went silent: they didn’t have to chant “one more tune” because they knew two were coming. But when they returned with two of their greatest hits, ‘Greek Tragedy’ and ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’, everyone in the audience was dancing, ensuring the gig went out on a certified bang.
Though The Wombats brought their music to life with impressive live musical skill, I was left wanting a larger insight into the band themselves, and evidence of their enthusiasm for the music they produce. Is that too much to ask for?
“The Wombats 2007” by Sebastiaan ter Burg is licensed under CC BY 2.0
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