Date: March 25th 2005

T’Chiefs are back in town and the city that never sleeps is ready to embrace them even closer. They are as excited to be here as the crowd and no mistake. The enthusiasm buzzes and the temperature rises even before foot or cane appear on stage.

The stage lights glint off of Ricky Wilson‘s little nose stud as he pours even more energy into the performance than can be thought possible. Instead of resting his injured foot, he runs circles around himself, leaps and jumps; those raptly watching wince each time he lands back on earth, all the while ignoring the stool set aside in the corner. A few torn ligaments cannot stop him from giving his all, which includes climbing onto Nick Hodgson‘s drum set. Twice! If you came to see a mind-blowing stage show, this is certainly the place to be. There is a moment where Wilson thinks he has ripped his trousers, although that would not be too surprising (or too disagreeable for many in the vicinity) with the acrobatics he’s performing. Simon Rix tries to help with the burden of hopping about and kicking up a storm by bouncing back and forth with bass in hand, though there is not much need as the floor is seething with waving arms and moving bodies.

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Date: February 12th 2005

The lights dim on a crowd awaiting to be wowed as five lads file out onto the stage, one straggling, hampered by his robot walk. That’s frontman Ricky Wilson, as tame as he will ever get. The lights blaze to life and so does the crowd.

From the first harmony of ‘Na Na Na Na Naa’, the Kaiser Chiefs seize the energy, already high after the local New York support, Madison Strays and Prosaics, strutted their stuff, and multiply it into a heated fun-frenzy.

Peanut, the one with the famous pork pie hat and the ace keyboard, and Whitey, with the amazing guitar solos, stoically man their corners; Nick Hodgson keeps the beat (and also the count) on his drums while Simon Rix has a set path, face obscured at moments by his bouncing hair; a path that is usually out of Ricky‘s way.

A man of many talents, Wilson thrashes his tambourine, assaults his cowbell, executes high jumps in such quick succession that he’d qualify for the Olympics, and rushes around the stage like a kid in a sweets shop. No one is safe, except maybe Nick (though not safe enough as a thong thrown from the crowd hits him in the head, or so we’re told). He even manages to cling to Simon‘s back for an impromptu piggy-back ride in the middle of a song. Amazingly enough, not a note is out of place.

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