The Reflektors @ Barrowlands, 16 November

Live Review by Rosamund West | 19 Nov 2013

The cat is well and truly out the bag long before Arcade Fire, sorry, The Reflektors, arrive in Glasgow for a duo of Barrowland dates. The pseudonym couldn’t contain their loyal fanbase, and the door staff have given up on enforcing the strict dress code of ‘Formal Attire or Costume’ by the time this second night of their short residency rolls around. But then they don’t need to, as the crowd have gleefully adopted the theme, celebrating the weekend with horse head masks and a sea of sequins. 

The band are loitering in the hall in their papier mâché heads – as if they’re normal people and not enormous rock stars who sold out two nights in the Barras under a fake name within five minutes – as the crowd filters in, largely ignoring them. There’s a sense of full moon fiesta in the air, the merry Glasgow Saturday night audience heading straight for the lengthy bar queue before settling in restless anticipation. There might be a riot if shit don’t start on time.

Luckily it does. The band explode on stage with their patented aura of barely contained chaos, a scrum of disparate instruments, voodoo costumes, glitter backdrops and ever shifting roles. Also one of them’s dressed as Braveheart. Is that offensive? Who cares, he’s beating the hell out of a drum and bringing some sort of eerie Caribbean party to the heart of Glasgow. Win Butler is late to the stage, wittering on with the conceit that they’ve started early and he’s a big rock star and he’s gonnae have a strop. We can see right through you, Win. The band’s disorder is perfectly choreographed and Reginé’s dancing in the corner there. Also it said it would start at 8.45pm on Twitter.

The majority of the set unsurprisingly consists of tracks from divisive fourth album Reflektor, from the rock swagger of opener Normal Person through the inevitable eponymous title track, closing with Here Comes The Night Time and its seductive steel drum riffs. What may come across as a contrived departure to the Caribbean on record actually works in the live arena, the loving care that’s gone into the staging and forcing an entire audience to look presentable paying off in the form of a dark and beguiling party which melds the rhythms and colours of Haiti with the darkness of an East End Saturday in November.

Win Butler plays the role of the demonic master of ceremonies to perfection, whipping the crowd into a frenzy with an early drop of Wake Up, goading them into a choreographed dance routine down the front, dragging audience members onstage for a surf and closing with a cascade of tickertape. The dress code may have seemed prescriptive from the outside, but the reality is a bacchanalian resurrection of the Glaswegian tradition of getting your glad rags oan for a trip to the Barrowland Ballroom on a Saturday night. Achieved through the medium of a Canadian indie rock band playing music inspired by Haiti. Obviously.