The Midnight’s Synthwave Symphony Enchants Berlin
‘Mono no aware’ (物の哀れ), a Japanese phrase that loosely translates to ‘a sense of nostalgic wistfulness and the awareness that nothing lasts forever,’ seems to sound like some oxymoron when one listens to the closing line of “Los Angeles” by the band The Midnight – ‘…and if we live forever, let us live forever tonight…’ – a dreamy conclusion with an eighties ring to it, to the main set of the band as they performed their vibrant electronic symphony songs at the Astra Kulturhaus in Berlin, Germany, on the moonlit night of last Thursday.
But let’s hit rewind on the VHS machine. Back in 2012, Atlanta-based singer-songwriter Tyler Lyle and Los Angeles–based Danish-born producer, songwriter, and singer Tim McEwan met during a co-writing workshop in North Hollywood, California. Inspired in part by the score for the 2011 film “Drive,” and the retro/eighties synth genre growing around its release, things got in motion, and the duo formed The Midnight, one of many young synthwave-genre bands popping up like mushrooms, relying on a following finding nostalgia when the band’s hits ring with dreamy synth beats in their ears and visions of neon-lit retro sports cars cruising along beach boulevards at sunset. Ironic then, that the average age of the audience at this concert, nestled in this super hip part of Berlin, was probably early thirties, representing a following that was mostly not even born in the eighties – so would not have had first-hand experiences and memories of the music and culture of the world at the time. Nevertheless, the relatively small and low-ceiling concert room was packed, with many arms of joy cutting into the humid air above them with neon wristbands handed out free of charge at entry.
On stage were passionate Tyler Lyle and ever-smiling Royce Whittaker, on lead vocals and occasional guitar, and lead guitar, respectively. Tyler did fiddle with his Ableton often, although it was not quite clear what the result was on the songs being played, other than the tempo clicker speeding up during the song “Nighthawks.” The lovely Lelia Broussard was on bass and vocals, Tim McEwan on controls on the side, Kwesi Robinson on drums, and Justin Klunk on the very characteristic and signature-sound sax.
The 90-minute concert, supported by opening act Circe, had it all: a plethora of stage lights, crowd lights, strobes, a bouncing balloon or two in the crowd, and an electrified ambience that was only ‘helped on’ by the surprisingly good acoustics, considering the cramped walls and low ceiling (smoke was, however, absent, and maybe a good thing, considering the setting). And of course, a relatively large setlist of 20 songs which, if you do the math, means 4 and a half minutes per song, excluding intros, breaks before the encore, and so forth. Most of the band’s main hits were in the second half of the set, with lead singer Tyler elaborating on his intentions or background for some of the songs beforehand.
It was clear that the audience was very familiar with the band and their songs, with nearly all observed singing word by word for most of the songs. Many also sported branded T-shirts, band logo on the front and tour dates with locations on the back. Hits like “The Comeback Kid,” “Gloria,” “Jason,” and “Los Angeles” were sung out full volume.
Speaking of volume, the sound levels were, according to personal taste, a bit too high. Moving to the back of the hall helped, but then one would be further away from the stage. Justin Klunk’s sax was screeching too much, and also a bit overkill on some songs, where parts were added for the live performance that was not present on the album versions. This is, however, not untypical for live performances.
“Good in Red” and “Sunset” comprised the encore for the other performances in Germany as part of this tour, but in Berlin, “Memories” was added as well. “Sunset” finished off the whole performance, a song that was the audience’s favourite – ‘Sunsets, no regrets, first chance, last dance, stuck in the middle…’ carried the audience into the performance closure and farewell, stopping the shimmering time machine of sound, weaving through neon-lit memories of an imagined past most in the audience never experienced. For those who did, a dreamy tapestry where lush synthesizers pulse like the heartbeats of forgotten nights and carried melodies swirling like the misty echoes of VHS tapes and pixelated dreams. The moonlit city backdrop cradled the crowds out of the block of neglected but hip and arty ruins back into the rest of their night.
