By Xanthe de Wesselow
It’s a Saturday night. Big city lights. “Bride to Be” sashes scatter every street corner with hen-dos en masse. A friend and I are venturing to Geordie land for a big night out.
We’re off to see Scouting For Girls at Newcastle’s O2 City Hall.
Dinner is booked in a cosy Italian on Dean Street. This sets the tone nicely and we imagine we’re on a hot date until the bill arrives, upon which we return to our cripplingly single reality and regretfully split the damage, taking it in turns to play Apple Pay roulette before we submit to a slightly embarrassing yet unsurprising decline on the first tap.
Remarking on Newcastle’s club scene looming large in comparison to our favoured Durham-bed-by-2:30 night out, we venture forth arm in arm and join the enormous queue that pours out of City Hall; practising lyrics and guessing the set list to pass the time. By the time two (slightly uninspiring) warm up acts have played and tiresomely repeated their Instagram handles to a somewhat uninterested audience, Clemmie has sore feet and I’m beginning to regret not watching Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging with her the night before, as I internally question how many lyrics I will actually know.
Revealing their latest retro album cover (The Place We Used To Meet) backdrop, the curtain eventually comes up and our qualms are dissipated as Roy Stride leads the band on stage with a palpable bundle of energy at his disposal. That undeniable boy band-esque melody strikes up, and soon the whole auditorium is cheering to “there’s a hole in my heart” before joining in by the time it’s “…and you’re the missing part” in a sort of teenage fangirl frenzy. Yet this is not exactly Newcastle’s demographic tonight. Far from it, the audience lacks a common denominator and instead we are surrounded by a varied multitude of people. Older couples, drunken mid-thirties friend groups, high-pitched, screeching women head to toe in pristine merch as well as the odd fifteen-year-old girl possie who are assiduous in their mission to spend the entire three hours sending filtered videos of themselves to their Snapchat fanbase. This eclectic mixture is a nod to Scouting For Girls’ longevity and deserved recognition that continues to stand the test of time.
The gig centres around this very fact. The band transport us on a whirlwind tour of their various albums in which Stride breezily mocks their youthful naivety during the early days (when he’s not singing or darting around the stage). Their humble roots are visibly touching: Ellard and Stride were Cub Scouts comrades while Churchouse met the lead singer on their first day at Queensmead School, West London.
We go back in time to 2007 – the release year of their debut album – to relive some of their teenage bedroom tracks where they would play together after school (newly tee-total Stride points to the latest album cover’s top floor window of his childhood home, cheekily telling us that it had to be open because he was always smoking out of it). The amateur sound of the early days are mimicked when an old, basic drum set and a couple of acoustic guitars appear, and all three men take centre stage as they nostalgically play It’s Not About You, I wish I was James Bond and Michaela Strachan from their debut album. This is when the crowd interaction reaches its peak: the crowd is split down the middle and we aggressively ping pong lyrics left to right, right to left, in a bid to be the loudest.
Peter Ellard, the unassuming drummer who holds each song together like a stoic pillar post at the back, takes the right side while Greg Churchouse, the bassist who’s sporting a wide smile that reaches the edges of his khaki baker boy hat, takes the left. Stride stands diplomatically behind his keyboard in the middle and tells Churchouse’s side we are having more fun when we shout ‘Just for the day’ louder than Ellard’s group (rather like that slightly over-enthusiastic deputy head figure at school, who would eagerly feed on the power trip during a morning’s assembly). It’s this charming schoolboy-ish crowd interaction coupled with the criminally catchy, serotonin filled songs that make this concert so euphoric.
Another highlight is Posh Girls. We are informed that the three ‘magic’ words are boys at school before Stride launches into the iconic opening bars. By the first chorus he has bounced his way up to the balcony, armed with a selfie stick. He’s now filming the crowd interaction as we enthusiastically chant the magic words expected of us, as though we’re in an artificial world where Roy Stride is our master. This time he plays the floor off against the balcony (“floor cheer, balcony cheer, floor, balcony, floor, balcony…”) and we hardly know whether he’s the lead singer of a boy band or the principal boy of a pantomime – all the same, Clemmie and I are just two of the of the hundreds of people immersed into this happy, childlike, dream land for as long as we’re robotically generated to follow Stride’s commands.
It’s true, his electric stage presence is making him the star of the show, although Churchouse and Ellard appear to be having just as much fun as their wide-eyed fans. As for newbie Nick Tsang, it soon becomes clear he is some sort of God of the music industry – his expertise on the guitar is wheeled out as and when for all the big stars in need of ‘elevating their sound’ or ‘enhancing their tracks’ (Sheeran, Capaldi and The Backstreet Boys have all been prone to the Tsang drug). Stride jests that a front row die hard, going by Louisa, knows the songs better than this fresh-faced guitarist himself, who simply grins and nods in return. His appearance on this tour may initially seem subtle yet it certainly packs a punch.
Whether or not it’s just another day at the office for Tsang doesn’t matter; his upbeat performance is adding a new dimension to a timeless boy band and no doubt a generous pay cheque helps to keep any glimpses of superficial showmanship at bay. But then again, who wouldn’t be having fun playing iconic English indie-pop music with this illustrious trio?
The night goes on in much the same way, with evenly interspersed songs from the latest album The Place We Used to Meet, which manages to go back to the band’s roots and hit the same, life-affirming notes as all the infamous favourites. This somehow amplifies the success of the older records, which come as a celebratory treat when the whole audience rejoices in knowing all the lyrics.
There is a rather low key ending when they sing the album’s opening song, Glow – a slower, melodic number. But the crowd isn’t easily fooled and it’s only a few repetitions of “One More Song” before the four men appear back in position and strike into a cover of Thank you and Goodnight, specifically for the aforementioned Louisa, who is screeching chaotically at the front.
Then, the moment we’ve all been waiting for finally arrives. With the triumphant opening chords, everyone erupts, relishing in the playful atmosphere for the final time. The pure animation that is felt in the room as we all sing in unison: “she’s so lovely, she’s so lovely, she’s so lovelyyy” is remarkable, and a true token of their songwriting genius.
Having felt hungover and slightly sorry for ourselves at the start of the evening, we left City Hall that night feeling quite the opposite. Scouting For Girls has entertainment, lightness, and stage presence in abundance and I urge anyone and everyone to buy a ticket for their 2024 tour. Having fun? Feeling down? Need to laugh? Just listen to Scouting For Girls. Their music is a kind of nostalgic solace that can be the remedy you never knew you needed.