Summer Sessions Edinburgh: Kasabian @ Ross Bandstand, 18 Aug
Kasabian at their best are undeniably great, full of genuine enthusiasm for their brand of electro-rock, but at the other end of the scale their music can be mind-numbingly banal
It's been a week of negative headlines for the Ross Bandstand and the role it plays in the Edinburgh festivals. From sound-disturbance at The Edinburgh Military Tattoo up on the Castle Esplanade to much gnashing of teeth on social media over wooden boards erected along Princes Street to keep the public from getting a free view of the shows taking place below, it seems indicative of a wider malaise among some locals towards the ever-expanding size of the world's largest arts festival. But the actual practice of putting up boards in front of the Gardens has been going on at least 20 years. A more pertinent question might be why we must choose from the same small pool of pop artists when it comes to big outdoor shows in Scotland. Visiting Edinburgh this month we have such surprises as Rag'n'Bone Man, Tom Jones and Paloma Faith. Who else? Kasabian. Of course. Tickets still available? No chance. They're a guaranteed sell-out, every time.
Kasabian are seemingly invincible. This is a band who could survive a targeted nuclear strike. The passing of time, changing musical tastes, technological advancements – none of these factors have had any noticeable impact on them. Other groups fall out of favour or succumb to the tedium of touring. Not this lot. It's been almost 15 years since they first played Edinburgh and they barely look a month older. Tom Meighan and Sergio Pizzorno retain a manic energy and obvious enthusiasm for their brand of electro-rock. They high-five and hug between songs. This affection is not a put-on.
Cynics have dismissed them as unthinking lad-rock. But tonight's crowd is made up of people of all ages and is at least one-third female. There are entire families in attendance, some wearing matching Kasabian shirts – mum, dad and 2.4 children. They all know the words to every song. Onwards Kasabian sail, selling tens of thousands of tickets every time they tour, shifting records in a way other acts can only dream.
Their songs remain a curious blend of synth loops, chugging guitars and choruses with all the subtlety of a Clydesdale dancing the cancan. They're anchored by a rock-solid rhythm section who stop the whole thing falling to pieces. There's a gleeful, playful nature to all of this. No one sings along to a Kasabian song with a serious expression on their face. They have none of the studied indifference of a classic Mancunian band dressed in windbreakers. It's The Monkees covering Primal Scream. Or more accurately, Kasabian being Kasabian. They've been doing this long enough now to almost be a musical sub-genre of their own.
When it works, it's undeniably great. They open with Club Foot, one of the best tracks from their 2004 self-titled debut album, and the crowd throws caution to the wind, piling down the steep concrete terraces of the bandstand for a closer look. But newer material – like 2014's Treat – sounds like Kasabian-by-numbers at best. Then there's the charmingly named You're In Love With a Psycho, released last year ahead of their sixth studio album For Crying Out Loud. Even if you concede the band didn't intentionally set out to offend with such a tin-eared title for a song, you can still be taken aback at the numbing banality of the music.
Kasabian plough on regardless. They wheel out the big guns for a pounding set finish, including the ubiquitous singalong to L. S. F. (Lost Souls Forever) and a rallying performance of Fire. Few bands this long in the tooth could sustain such a level of intense excitement throughout a 90-minute gig. Few bands could sustain a 15-year career with a brand of electro-rock so critically unfashionable. Yet here they are. Nothing, it seems, can stop them.