Apart from the odd appearance and one-off show here and there, Moby has spent the best part of the last 10 to 15 years sitting at home because, in his own words, he’s “old and lazy”.
Neither appears to actually be the case as from the moment he strides onto stage during the closing notes of My Weakness at the O2 Apollo he’s in near constant motion for the rest of the evening. Occasionally occupying a singular spot on the stage for more than a fleeting moment to either play the keys or bongos or treat us to a story. It’s as if someone forgot to tell him he’s supposed to be the “middle-aged white guy” electronic musician and not a highly caffeinated animation.
Having never experienced Moby live, his show was an unknown to us. How much of a band would there be? What about the vocals? How would it come across live? How much atmosphere could an electronic dance act produce in combination with a primarily over 40’s crowd, half of which is seated?
All questions we would receive prompt answers to thanks to an opening hattrick of In My Heart, Go and Bodyrock. Backed by a full band and two (occasionally three) vocalists Moby conducts atmosphere from the audience during the opening numbers, treading every board and inch of the stage, gesturing to a capacity crowd revelling in their luck and having snagged a ticket to this first night of his Play 25 Live tour.
25 years since it’s release Play occupies an iconic position in the history of electronic and dance music, an album that can rest years between listens before every track is welcomed back with warm recognition, as they are this evening. It’s like catching up with an old friend who hasn’t aged a day – unlike most of us in the audience.
Though the tour is advertised as a celebration of Play it’s far from the only record dipped into tonight. 18’s Extreme Ways produces one of the biggest responses of the night outside of the Play material, of which the immortal melody of Porcelain reigns supreme, with Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?, Natural Blues and Honey all rolling back the years for those in attendance. Arms getting a little looser and freer as we all remember how we used to do this!
The first time we hear from Moby it’s to wax lyrical about Manchester, and the North of England in general. Quite simply without the influence and love of a raft of Manchester bands he’d quite possibly be teaching in a community college somewhere. He recalls fond memories of touring with 808 State, meeting Tony Wilson in the Hacienda and fiercely defending OMD’s first three albums from criticism with a likeminded German named Eric who would ultimately become his manager.
Turning his focus to more recent fondness he admits that most of the time he plays music these days it’s in his back yard with his friends, eating vegan pizza and playing Neil Young songs, or some of his own softer songs, which leads fittingly into Almost Home and When It’s Cold I Like to Die. “Did we play too many quiet songs in a row?” He asks to the crowd, to a mixed, if not slight “yeaaahh” response. Nothing wrong with getting feedback after a decade away from the touring game.
Closing his encore with Feeling So Real and Thousand we are left in a paradoxical state of mind. We’ve just seen him, for the first time, and yet feel like we miss him more than ever. It’s like finishing a tub of (vegan) ice cream – satisfying, but you’re already planning when to get the next one.
The perfect mid-week pick-me-up, we’d petition for Moby Wednesdays to become a regular staple of our night life. Tonight was the ultimate warm reminiscence of an admittedly rose-tinted era that we’d all happy time jump back to, arms raised and sweaty. They just don’t make them like that anymore.
Photo Gallery by Alex Cropper
Go Places Do Things 