Viagra Boys bring pub-like gig vibe to Queen Elizabeth Hall


Words: Syd James 

Battling through wet children playing in the water fountain that blocks the entrance to Queen Elizabeth Hall, fans made their way into the large – very clean – venue, usually reserved for author events and orchestras. Everyone seems slightly unsure of themselves sitting in allocated leather seats, there is no intimacy, and dirt, that these fans are usually greeted with. The only saving grace, or hint at familiarity, is the few fans at the front bouncing around large inflatable footballs, and together we think ‘they will shout “SPORTS” with me’.  

No such theatre performance would be complete without an introduction from Nile Rogers. Rogers remarks that Meltdown has been one of “the most insane weeks of [his] life”, he then encourages everyone to stand up as the Boys have told him “this is the weirdest sh*t ever”. Instantly the crowd seems relieved at the acknowledgement of this bizarre arrangement.  

As the band leak onto the stage and dive straight into ‘Research Chemicals’ their hectic-nonchalant energy is quickly injected into the crowd. It is hard to keep track of vocalist Sebastian Murphy as he throws himself to the ground and crawls around the front of the stage, but somehow we notice the particular emphasis on the lyrics “everything seems wrong”. Maybe it’s the dramatic light show behind them?  It only takes a few minutes for his shirt to be disposed of and for the trademark dancing to start; hellish normality is restored. With this go ahead, fans start rushing from their seats to be closer to the noise, they quickly fill the stairs much to the dismay of the Southbank staff who are already stopping people in the front rows doing headstands on their seats. This is certainly no Ian McEwan.


The band worked through most of their recent album ‘Street Worms’ in the stonking one and a half hour set. Just two extended saxophone plays in, the crowd is hit with ‘Sports’, oh and by the tennis balls and the inflatable footballs we spotted earlier. Having got endorphins pumping, the band cools us down with ‘Worms’. The tempo is slowed, the room is filled with smoke and the crowd joins Murphy in a general sway as they soak in the doom filled lyrics as they rejoice at the thought of being joined together through bodily decomposition. The set ends on ‘Shrimp Shack’, the devilish riff and piercing saxophone taunting the audience with the end of the mayhem. But this isn’t it, the crowd is met by an ‘encore’ of sorts (he didn’t really leave the stage) a hypnotizing saxophone solo, a perfect fit for this unholy evening.

What came with this unusual venue aside from many Shakespeare jokes, was perfect acoustics, a huge step up from heady festival sets. Looking at the stage, you could feel every note from each instrument coming at you from the fingers or mouths of each musician. Under this microscope, Viagra Boys flaunted their true musicianship, reminding us that what we hearing is exactly what they planned, whether crisp baseline or a shrieking saxophone, there are no happy mistakes here. A true dissection of punk. This band has the ability to make an theatre feel like a pub, this beer and plastic cup lead attack on this venue proves it.