Dry the River LIVE

I have always found Dry The River’s constant comparisons to Mumford and Sons bemusing and annoying. In the post-Mumford world any band that picks up an acoustic guitar and dares to pluck a couple of notes or strum a couple of chords is instantly condemned by the music press to a banjo-phillic perdition that seems completely blind to the decades of folk music that came before the meteoric rise of Marcus and his mates. In fact Dry The River sound more like Sigur Ros fronted by a falsetto-y young Paul Simon. Frontman and founder Peter Liddle bleats his tender lyrics, heavily influenced by his Anthropology degree (which wear a little after the third reference to a Phrygian lion), over an intimidating post-rock arrangement. This is what makes the band unique.

The band arrive on stage with a point to prove. They hurtle into a rollicking version of single No Rest which blows the roof off the small venue after two comparatively weak and quiet support acts. By the chorus the entire band are shouting “I loved you in the best way possible” in a melodramatic chugging fashion more befitting of a Neon Bible period Arcade Fire than a certain aforementioned troupe of tweed-enthusiasts. The crowd seem justifiably stunned.

Pete and co. then undertake a sweep through their entire debut album. After half an hour the set begins to feel slightly formulaic. Each song begins with Liddle’s high pitched croon over a simple acoustic riff; his bandmates then harmonize before pushing towards a swelling anthemic chorus. It is at this point, half way through the set that Dry the River distinguish themselves. Liddle announces that he is going to step away from the microphone and sing the power ballad-like Weights and Measures entirely a capella. He then asks the crowd to sing along. This is a band whose album peaked at 28 in the UK chart. A mid-set sing-a-long could be over-ambitious. However, I watched astounded as the entire crowd, including Manchester United defender Rio Ferdinand, belted out Liddle’s lyrics culminating in the epiphanaic chorus “I was prepared to love you and never expect anything of you.” The band had turned one of their weaker songs into a genuinely touching moment.

Dry the River are a band that need to be seen live to be fully understood. They balance cacophonies of noise with tender melodies and impressive song-writing. Marcus Mumford should be taking notes.