Live Review: The Streets

The most glamorous thing about the newly reunited Streets is that they are completely unglamorous. Stripped back, clad in all black, Mike Skinner started the night with a Holden vs Ford analogy.

This analogy – as well as immediately ingratiating Skinner with the Aussie crowd – would set the tone for The Streets' entire set. Skinner retired The Streets some eight years ago. But now the man with the silver tongue is back, with a new message. Not the familiar one of mouthy lads shouting words back at him like they wrote them themselves, but one of tolerance, acceptance and safe spaces for self-expression, whether you don your favourite football shirt or sit quietly in your comfy ripped jeans. Skinner, with beer in hand, gazed at the frenzied crowd before walking straight into the mosh pit as the band tore into Turn The Page. 

While the full band effortlessly skipped between garage, reggae, hip hop, punk and soul, it was Skinner who had the audience eating from the palm of his clammy English hand. Special mention has to go to their effort to ensure the safety of the heavily outnumbered women in the audience. Skinner insisted that the house lights shine on the crowd as he urged them to crowdsurf safely.

The hits kept rolling all night; in fact every song was a hit: Has It Come To This?, Too Much Brandy, The Escapist. But it was Dry Your Eyes that really brought it all home. The fever-pitch excitement from the football-chanting, expat, lairy lads suddenly paused as they digested and sang back every single word of the heartbreaking ballad. The night ended with a supercharged Fit But You Know It and Mike Skinner's classic cheeky banter as he wished everybody a fun week and safe trip home. Fantastic night, innit!