Rare is the crowd who whoop and holler the news that there will be “no hits” over the coming two hours, just “B-sides, album tracks and what we’re calling ‘fan favourites’.” Because rare is the band that can carry off such an affront to civilised entertainment. You could count them on the fingers of one hand after a major industrial accident: The Smiths, yes, Suede, yes, Oasis, yes, but… Pet Shop Boys?
As one of British pop’s most celebrated and successful singles bands, it’s a bold move indeed for Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe to mark the release of a new retrospective book Volume by staging a full five nights at Camden’s Electric Ballroom entirely bereft of pop smashes. They’ve dubbed the week Obscure, but Foolhardy would’ve been just as apt a title.
It's a concept primed to underwhelm, and it was certainly no help that PSB launched into the austere synth moods of Will-o-the-Wisp – the opening track from 2020’s Hotspot album – at a volume that would barely ruffle the aura of a woodland sprite. The hushed tone muted the entire evening, dampening dynamics and draining vitality from the set. Any excitement at the live debut of 1986 track Jack the Lad dissipated quickly as Tennant – in smart suit and glasses – sat on a stool reading the lyrics from a stand, and this sort of soft, sophisticated, sombre tone came to dominate the first hour.
The effect was to emphasise the more reflective and melancholy aspects of PSB’s music, a vital component of their intrigue and longevity as the thinking fan’s pop band. But as the tropical exotica of To Face the Truth (from 1990’s Behaviour album) bled into the monotone noir pop of 2009’s After the Event, or lounge ballad stacked upon lounge ballad in the latter half of the show, you were left crying out for something a tad more hi-NRG.
Things perked up significantly mid-set, when Tennant strapped on an acoustic guitar for Sexy Northerner from 2002’s Disco 3 – “It’s not all football and fags!” he sang on the night’s sole chant-along moment – and invited regular touring singer Sylvia Mason-James onstage to add soulful counterpoint to his wispy delivery of Happiness is an Option and One in a Million, a kissing cousin of I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind of Thing from 1993’s Very. But the fact that a mid-song swerve into Culture Beat’s Mr Vain caused the biggest pulse of excitement of the night was telling: even the most indulgent of audiences deserve a banger or two lobbed their way.
There were a few such moments from PSB’s own catalogue. The closing track from debut album Please - Why Don’t We Live Together? - was a crowd-rousing rarity and Tennant’s solo piano turn on subtle showstopper Your Funny Uncle from 1988 learnt towards the sublime. But with so many B-side hit remixes and rave albums fitting the week’s remit, they could have at least pointed west.
