Muse have always hated ‘The Man’. From their love of Rage Against The Machine to the makes-you-think cover art of recent album ‘Drones’, Matt, Dom and Chris have always tried to stick a two fingered salute to The Establishment wherever possible. Problem is, they’ve never done it very well. Cries of “Isn’t capitalism bad?’, ‘the government is corrupt’ and ‘We should take the power back’ don’t really add anything to a conversation that’s articulate, engaging and ever-present, especially when set inside their own little world of escapism, detachment and fancy lighting.
That distance has grown in recent years as the band have indulged more in grand concepts and forced narratives. Overthinking the game, the human element of their resistance has been watered down. Men safe in high castles encouraging revolt from afar.
But as the band return to headline Reading & Leeds Festival for the third time, the walls come tumbling down. From the opening plea of ‘Dig Down’, defiantly encouraging strength in the face of adversity’ to the closing “you and I must fight for our rights” in Knights of Cydonia, Muse are here to deliver a powerful and surprisingly succinct message. There’s no God to turn to, to fix this miss. Now the only ones we can rely on are each other.
Those towers of unity and standing up for each other dominate the set. There’s power to be found in emotion. Hope in love. From the fiery want of ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ to the individuality baiting wail of ‘Plug In Baby’, classics are given new meaning and energy within this tale. The return of fan-favourites ‘Showbiz’ and ‘Take A Bow’ share a vision of fighting back against the expected. Of not wanting to follow the path that’s been laid out before them. The vendetta promise of ‘Uprising’ is given a new purpose, the bent knee cry of ‘Mercy’ is championed, unifying the festival under streams, confetti and shared space while their cover of ‘Back In Black’ welcomes the newcomers to the fold. ‘Starlight’ and ‘Time Is Running Out’ cherish the connections we share as the in-the-crowd handhold and selfie camera further slash at the distance (even if it’s really not Matt’s best angle.)
At a festival, and a time, where cries of “fuck Donald Trump” act as an easy way to get the crowd to engage, Muse’s headline set is full of subtle but persistent rebellion. Heart led and full of hope, it’s smart, understated and surprisingly meaningful. And if that’s not a sign the world going to hell…