The Black Keys @ Alexandra Palace Park | Live Review + Gallery

Matt Wellham

After years of photographing and filming the London music scene, Matt’s now based in Sydney, Australia. A lover of the post-punk and alternative movement, he can usually be found in the grassroots venues, camera in one hand and a beer in the other.

The Black Keys bring their thunderous blues sound to London’s iconic Alexandra Palace

Ohio’s duo The Black Keys are among the very best blues-rock songwriters. A career spanning over two decades and twelve studio albums is certainly no mean feat, especially when each release brings its own unique sound and fresh take on the blues.

For me, The Black Keys were a band that shaped my taste in music growing up. Discovering them at 15 shifted me away from bands like Green Day and Nirvana and into records inspired by the blues legends of the ’50s and ’60s. It was a more mature sound for me to get into and my love of both blues-rock and The Black Keys has only grown in the fifteen years since.Despite that, I’d never actually managed to catch them live, until tonight. Ahead of their next album ‘No Rain, No Flowers’, The Black Keys brought their infectious sound to Alexandra Palace Park as part of their outdoor summer season.

Set to the side of the Palace, a festival-style stage stood tall at the bottom of the slope. Behind it, the London skyline shimmered in the evening heat. The 10,000 strong crowd sweated as they clambered up the steep hillside, but they were rewarded with an outstanding view at the top and plenty of cold beer to cool them off. It was an absolute spectacle as the sun began to dip and purple and orange hues spread across the sky.

By 8.40pm, the buzz of anticipation was tangible. Fans on the barrier called me over, desperately asking if I could spot the setlist from the photo pit. While I had to disappoint them, it wasn’t long before they found out for themselves. The screens went black and an electronic bass thump rattled through my chest. As the crowd exploded into applause, out walked Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney, looking effortlessly cool as they waved and greeted the audience before taking their places.

Auerbach kicked things off by cranking the wall of vintage amps behind him and screaming out the intro lick to ‘Thickfreakness’. The way he glided around the neck of the guitar was pure joy to watch, breaking away from the main riff into slick flourishes. Beside him, Carney commanded the drums with a swagger, he looked like he was always half a beat behind but snapped back into the groove at the last second. He was deep in the pocket and it sounded brilliant. That level of looseness and swing is what I imagine it was like watching Ringo Starr drumming for The Beatles over fifty years ago.

Fan favourite ‘Gold on the Ceiling’ burst into life after an extended intro jam from Auerbach. As the full backing band kicked in, I stood back and admired how good the sound was. I’m used to festival setups where the audio leaves a lot to be desired, but here, no matter where I stood, it sounded massive. Props to Ally Pally and the techs for that.

Back to the music, The Black Keys aren’t short of bangers. ‘Fever’, ‘Wild Child’, ‘I Got Mine’, ‘Everlasting Light’ and ‘Next Girl’, all arrived early in the set. While Carney pounded the kit, Auerbach worked every inch of the stage. He dashed back and forth between verses, spilling out guitar licks as he went. He jumped onto Carney’s drum riser as riffs and grooves collided, giving the audience a visual hit of their connection.

‘Tighten Up’ gave the crowd a chance to practise their best whistles before the pair launched into their recent single ‘Man On A Mission’. The track harks back to their ‘Brothers’ era. Led by a catchy riff and heavier sound, by the second chorus, the crowd was singing along, whether they got the lyrics right or not.

Next up was a pleasant surprise: a cover of one of my favourite ’60s tracks, Canned Heat’s ‘On The Road Again’. Auerbach’s vocals hit every high note as he slipped in licks between lines. Carney pushed the pace slightly faster than the original, and it felt like an old blues jam unfolding as the two laughed and joked with each other.

‘Howlin’ for You’ and ‘She’s Long Gone’ closed the main set before the encore. With over fifteen years of practice, the pair were impeccable. It always feels like they’re improvising solos and licks on the fly, yet every time they’re flawless. As the final notes rang out, Auerbach took time to introduce and thank the backing band, before thanking Carney himself.

With the lights down, tension rippled through the hillside crowd as they waited for the encore. For those who hadn’t started their descent home early, the reward was an immaculate ‘Little Black Submarines’. The band reappeared. Under a single spotlight stood Auerbach as he began that iconic acoustic melody. Phone lights flickered as the audience swayed and overpowered the voice on stage as they sang every lyric. As the acoustic section ended, Auerbach swapped guitars and Carney crashed into the kit, smashing cymbals and skins to build a huge wall of sound for Auerbach to shred the solo over. Strobes pulsed, LED walls flickered in sync and the silhouettes of the front row leapt into the air, desperate for a closer glimpse. This was The Black Keys at their best.

Without a pause, they launched into ‘Lonely Boy’ to close the night. There’s a reason this track brought them so much critical success fourteen years ago: the repeating riff is infectious, the drums thunderous, and it’s pure dancefloor energy. Even those starting the long walk down the hill belted out the words and shuffled their feet on the way. You’d struggle to find a more perfect track to end a gig and the duo know it. Grinning ear to ear, they thanked everyone and wished us all a safe journey home.

The Black Keys may have changed my taste in music fifteen years ago, but all these years later they’re still reminding me just how brilliant and captivating blues-rock can be. Watching them live was an absolute joy and I found myself digging out my copy of ‘El Camino’ the moment I got through the door.