What’s the best way to end a UK tour? Most wouldn’t say “Sunday night in a venue tucked above an empty shopping centre,” but not The Dangerous Summer. O2 Academy Islington slowly fills with a crowd who meet the definition you’d expect at an all ages show; middle aged guys in The Who shirts rub shoulders with pop punk kids who shouldn’t be out on a school night. It’s a sign that in their sixteen years as a band, The Dangerous Summer have managed to create a sound that’s captured the hearts of an incredibly wide cross-section of the alt community. Maybe it’s their cinematic creativity or vocalist AJ Perdomo’s luxuriant rasp that’s reached out to the masses, but we know for sure that the guys from Maryland know how to put on a heck of a show.
While we could accuse the Dangerous Summer of having a very similar sound across their career, it’s quickly revealed when we hear a full live set that this is not the case at all. Think of their output more like short scenes from the same movie, each one a separate prick of emotion from the same imagined nostalgic setting. The guitar in opener ‘Gravity’ feels like cold rain falling, the sound of opening a dust-covered photograph album, the free flowing lyrical narrative forming itself into determined shapes. ‘Pacific Ocean’ roars like its namesake, and it hits hard for the fans they’ve picked up through their appearances at this year’s Slam Dunk. Evoking the aching sympathy of The Gaslight Anthem at their most lonely, Perdomo is resolute, his raw voice twisting. Tales of small town eloquence like ‘Way Down’ are easy to lose yourself in, and we find the set passing far too quickly. “This song’s about saying fuck you, ever just wanna say that shit?” Perdomo smiles, his shirt beginning to become saturated in sweat, ‘Fuck Them All’ channels the wall of synth-driven sentiment which Spanish Love Songs have used so well, and he growls like released repression as we raise our middle fingers in response. Somehow, we’ve all subconsciously moved to the front of the stage.
The overwhelming sense we’re given is one of gratitude. The Dangerous Summer are humble, and it’s hard not to feel like they’ve adopted you into their extended family over their course of the show. “You showed up on the Lord’s Day, huh? I like that, man…” grins the frontman before launching into ‘Coming Home’, with its tone of acceptance inside a clenched fist mixed with drum fill hope. They don’t even have a banner behind them to announce their presence; it’s just us and them, hanging out like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. “Can I give you a choose your own adventure right now?” He shouts, getting a vote for a seemingly spontaneous request session. “‘Weathered’, baby! Let’s do it!” Live, ‘Weathered’ has noticeably looser drumming, bringing a punkier, demo freedom to the track. It’s a treat for those who want to see their favourites reinvent a favourite. The guitarist from support act Broadside takes over on ‘The Permanent Rain’, giving Perdomo a chance to jump into the crowd to party right alongside them. We surround him, our phone flashlights surrounding him for his intimate performance. An open, heartwarming community gathers round him, snappily bouncing on their heels.
“What the fuck did I just take a shot of?” Perdomo splutters after Scottish supports happy daze hand him a small plastic cup. The Dangerous Summer pause their show to thank everyone whose contributed to their tour, but it doesn’t feel like an interruption. ‘Where I Want To Be’ is the right song to close with, its Springsteen-esque buildup and classic rock guitar angle that leads into a long, gorgeous vocal outro. “There’s goddamn tears in my eyes, man,” says Perdomo, and doubtless, he’s not the only one in the room blinking them back. The Dangerous Summer have earned themselves a dedicated core of fans, but they deserve a lot more of them for their ability to conjure an atmosphere through little more than grit, guitar and genuine sentiment. With a small scale show that crams in wide open musical spaces, it sure won’t be long until that happens.
KATE ALLVEY