It’s become a common observation in conversations about current music: where did the men in pop go? Contrarians might argue that over the last few years we’ve had Benson Boone’s backflipping, Alex Warren’s aggressive ordinariness and, on the alternative side, Sombr’s laidback 2000s indie. Indeed, a void has to be filled somehow. But the gender scales were always going to feel dramatically tipped in favour of the Charlis, Sabrinas and Rosalías… until Harry Styles sauntered back onto the stage in a little blue jumper and daisy print shirt, here to celebrate his new album Kiss All the Time. Disco, Occasionally. Only he could elicit this level of guttural screaming: painful, blood-curdling shrieks at Manchester’s Co-op Live Arena that, after 75 minutes, leave your ears aching.
The order of play is this: a full run through of Styles’s muted disco-pop LP, then a smattering of the big hits. We’ve been hearing and seeing a lot about his adventures in Europe – he set up shop in Berlin to record with longtime collaborator Kid Harpoon – but it’s still a surprise to be thrust onto the dancefloor as the set opens. It’s twitchy, cold synths and migraine-inducing strobes while Styles twiddles around on the decks. No, it’s not Brat (though it’s lifted from the Brat tour playbook, now filtered up into the biggest mainstream male solo artist in the world). It’s Harry’s disco.
