Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel vs Brixton Academy, January 2007 
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The band exercised complete control over a crowd who knew the timing and lyrics of every song from Broken Boy Soldiers. Intros were slowed down and drawn out, gradually escalating into explosive renditions of the album recordings. Solos were extended and punctuated by complete stops; the crowd would start their applause, only to find themselves interrupting another verse. In this way, the band toyed with the crowd throughout the entire show, and everyone loved the abuse.

Although the band members stress that they are all of equal importance, Jack White established himself as the group’s centre-piece early on. In Rhode Island, White and Benson shared a dual-front man role, but in London, Benson seemed content chilling by the drums with Pat while Jack pranced around stage. The yin and yang presented by White and Benson perfectly balance the act. Brendan’s more reserved, precise vocals cut through the static distortion like a ringing scalpel knife. Jack's impassioned, tuneful howls fray the edges, charging every note of Benson’s crystal clear melodies with raw harmonies. Clever thumping bass lines underpin the wailing guitars, bridging and complimenting the gap between melody and rhythm.

The most notable attribute is the band’s chemistry; all four are genuinely excited about the music they are playing. They love it. They smile at each other, they share microphones, they make playful jabs at each other’s instruments – the show is a delightful orgy of brotherhood and rock ‘n roll. All three axe-wielding members draw significant energy from drummer Pat Keller. The group could be found huddled around the drum kit nearly as often as they frolicked around the stage.

They ran through a few originals that haven’t yet been recorded. It made me REALLY regret not signing up for a live CD. By the time the band left the stage (after about 45 minutes), Madame Cancer Stick was fully loaded and boisterous. “THEY DIDN’T PLAY ‘STEADY AS SHE GOES’!!!!” she trilled indignantly, furiously wafting smoke into my face. Even the gentlemen in front of me appeared confused. I slapped Cancer Stick across the face with my gloves to assure her that there will be an encore. There is always an encore.

Like clockwork, the band came back, and, right on schedule, launched into a high-octane rendition of ‘Steady As She Goes’. The enormity of the song inflated and pressed against the walls of Brixton Academy like a helium balloon, engulfing everyone in a giddily high-pitched sing-along.

The encore lasted another 30 minutes, and ended on ‘Hands’, which rocked. I loved it. Ruth loved it. The Hipsters loved it, but not as much as they love Deerhoof. The Stoners loved it. The mosh pit loved it. The bouncers loved it. The Insolent Youth loved it. Even the aging plastic vines rattling precariously against the crumbled plasterwork on the walls loved it. We all basked in the loving afterglow as we watched the roadies pack up the gear, content to say our socks were rocked off.