Live Review: Future Islands

It's a real treat to see Future Islands come alive in a semi-intimate setting tonight.

Frontman Samuel T Herring darts across the stage and gazes intensely out over the audience. His mutton chops make him seem even wilder as he repeatedly pounds his chest like a gorilla and points while looking us dead in the eye. He seems as if he's ready to pounce on one of us at any moment to start a fight.

"We all have those days where you just gotta pull through that one day," Herring says as he wipes the sweat dripping from his forehead. It is the Monday following their headline set at Meredith Music Festival, after all, so today is probably one of those days for Herring. "Tonight's about our 140th show for the year, but I'm not 25 anymore," he jokes while out of breath. Herring could've fooled us, though, as he brings such incredible energy to the stage with curling dance moves, powerful fist-pumping and spasmodic high-kicks to keep us entranced. If this is how he moves in his mid-30s, we wonder how much more he could possibly give to the performance. His showmanship is truly extraordinary.

Herring introduces the title of each track to us before he begins to sing so we don't even have to think about which favourite from their catalogue is up next. And they've got a fair amount to cover tonight having been around for 15 years. "Beauty Of The Road - we spend most of our lives out here and there's so much to be thankful for," he says. It's a track that's featured on their latest album The Far Field, which encourages us to get in touch with our hearts and minds. They continue with Ancient Water, which explores this theme a bit deeper, and Herring gets nostalgic about missing those days as a kid playing down by the water.

We're told bassist William Cashion is celebrating his birthday today so the crowd takes a moment to sing to him before Future Islands launch into one of their biggest hits Seasons (Waiting On You). Herring unleashes bursts of growling baritone vocal rasps and out-of-control, possessed dance moves. As Herring bites the microphone cord and pulls it through his clenched teeth, we are encouraged to embrace our inner animal as we soak up the infectious synth with indie-rock melodies.

"Don't lose the fucking feeling!" Herring shouts after returning for an encore. We find the fire in our souls to keep getting down to the beat before reaching a slow sway as the band say goodnight with Little Dreamer.