As the inevitable music reviews of 2017 approach, we can expect the omnipresence of young Declan McKenna in the editorial indie Top 10s, alongside giants like Arcade Fire, Phoenix, and XX. Rightfully so? Having seen him live twice—in February at the Marché Gare in Lyon and then in October at La Maroquinerie—we answer with a frank and resounding yes, as his talent for catchy melodies and his natural charisma on stage are undeniably striking, both visually and audibly, and vice versa. A recap of the Parisian show of an 18-year-old seasoned veteran.
Perplexity
True to our—bad—provincial habits, we missed most of the opening act, Sam Fender, but heard enough to note the lack of subtlety in his heavy-handed pop songs, somewhat like his stage name (the existence of the Gibson Brothers being no excuse). When the lights came back on, and as expected, the average age (14 max) plunged us into an abyss of perplexity, a feeling reinforced by the fact that the entire audience sang along to Abba, Rick Astley, Aha, and Human League, but not MGMT's Kids! The roadies bustled on the tiny stage of La Maroquinerie and finally made way for the band in a slightly different lineup than earlier in the year, with a bassist who looked like an engineering student replacing the high school girl seen in Lyon.
"Ready-to-be-torn" T-shirt
A sign of maturity, Declan has ditched the overalls for a more sophisticated look: white jeans, black velvet jacket, and a white "ready-to-be-torn" T-shirt. To immediately win over the audience—who were clearly eager for it—he kicked off with the anthem The Kids Don't Wanna Come Home, which the entire room immediately sang along to. It's true that with an album full of hits, he can afford to go big right from the start. This was followed by the beautiful Make Me Your Queen and Basic (from the 2016 EP Stains) before the energy ramped up several notches with Bethlehem, sparking the first crowd movements (gentle movements, we're not at Hellfest).
Forty-year-old's mastery
Continuing to blow hot and cold, the teenager alternately had the audience swaying to the very Elliott Smith-esque Mind, groupies singing along to Humongous, and everyone bouncing to Isombard, with the mastery of a forty-year-old. The other band members seemed to have been instructed not to overshadow the star of the evening, collectively possessing the charisma of a bunch of radishes. Let's not be too harsh; generosity is always more appreciable than arrogance, and each song provided a great moment: Why Do You Feel So Down was launched a cappella by the audience and lit up by smartphone lights, I Am Everyone Else gave us the opportunity to hear the only solo from a guitarist as cute as she is unknown to Google, and finally, Paracetamol marked the end of McKenna's T-shirt (torn off with an epileptic movement) and most of the panties in the front rows.
Small gifts
Throughout the concert, interactions with the audience were frequent and sincere, with embarrassed "we love yous" and small gifts (a FRANCE-branded cap here, a Bowie picture disc there). The climax was, of course, the now highly anticipated stage dive from the singer, so anticipated that it was staged to an extended version of the hit Brazil. Will he jump? Won't he jump? Phew, there he is, painfully lifted—not easy to carry with one hand and film with the other—and taken for a spin as short as the venue is small. Let's be honest, Declan McKenna is not the new Bowie, but his growing success is richly deserved. We can only hope he is well-surrounded (not like Amy Winehouse, if you know what we mean) and that the rock'n'roll circus doesn't devour him.
