The Joy Formidable, Razzmatazz 3, Barcelona

They say timing is everything, in which case, I’m not really sure whether The Joy Formidable have got it very, very right, or very, very wrong. It certainly seems that they’ve been in no rush; having formed in 2007, it’s only now they’ve gotten round to releasing an album and headlining their own tour. Part of me wants to think it’s because they’ve taken the time to get everything just perfect, but the cynic in me links the delay to the recent emergence of the Nineties revival, set to be the ‘next big thing’. The distinction is relevant, for as anyone who’s heard their stuff will attest, they specialise in a sort of early to mid-1990’s, indie-rock-grunge of the type Billy Corgan used to be really good at, before later being aped by the likes of Reef and Feeder to name but a few.

Questions of originality aside, what they do have going for them is that this kind of music perfectly lends itself to a live setting – big verses with even bigger choruses, wrapped in layers of guitar always sound better from the chaos of a beer soaked mosh pit, and tonight proves no different. Launching into ‘The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie’, they all sport grins from ear to ear, and quickly following with ‘The Magnifying Glass’ and fan-favourite ‘Austere’, you get the impression they’re not wasting a second now they finally have an album to tour.

You can hear the scope of their ambition in the likes of ‘The Greatest Light…’, exactly the type of song a band writes with arena headline slots in mind, and the highpoint of tonight, stretched to almost 6 minutes. In comparison, the likes of ‘Buoy’ and ‘Cradle’ come across as filler, almost exactly like they do on the LP. It’s not that they are bad, just a little unoriginal and lacking in personality, and live they fare no better. It is however refreshing to see more obscure numbers ‘Greyhound In The Slips’ and ‘9669’ make an appearance, something their hardcore fans definitely appreciate.

Despite only playing nine songs, they last for over an hour, culminating in an extended version of ‘Whirring’, and an impromptu bit of moshing down the front. Clearly they are relishing the opportunity to preach to the masses and having a whale of a time doing so – Ritzy Bryan in particular looked like the cat that got the cream – an infectious spirit that spread to all those in attendance. They were tight and together, although after being together nearly four years, I suppose that’s the least you’d expect. At their most bombastic, Bryan’s voice does tend to get lost in the mix, and I’m not so sure she has the pipes that this type of rock requires, but in every other sense she’s the consummate frontwoman – getting a fan up on stage to translate the album title into Spanish and Catalan was a particularly nice touch. Time will tell whether said timing is on or off, but as nostalgia always sells well, it may just be their moment to shine.