大象传媒

Ninety minutes toe-to-toe with one of the indisputable live heavyweights, Muse. We've gone the distance, been bombarded with their fierce audio-visual artillery and survived. Just. They leave in their wake an Odyssey audience retina-seared and cauliflower-eared.

Our spacemen three clamber aboard stage to the portentous opening chords of 'Take A Bow', tension is duly ratcheted up, assuring us that this is a true forget-me-not occasion. And what a set, downtown Tokyo looks like some provincial backwater compared to this industrial light and magic extravaganza. A dazzling, Blade Runner-style panorama in which Muse will play out their wildest sci-fi rock fantasies.

But, if it was only about a light show we'd have booked tickets for Jean Michel Jarre. Muse, however, is a band whose tunes are every bit as big as the daunting neon glare backdrop. The set list revolves around the absurdly epic 'Black Holes and Revelations' with a smattering of singles from 'Origin of Symmetry' and even 'Showbiz' to appease the long-standing fans. All are delivered with Muse's trademark bombast; indeed not since primetime Queen has a band so artfully combined the grand gesture of opera with the raw power of rock.

'Supermassive Black Hole' is momentous, a screeching extraterrestrial dogfight between intergalactic guitar and warp speed rhythms. Matt Bellamy, the consummate showman, drags the opening guitar lines of 'Plug In Baby' to delirious lengths. Prolonging, building before the final release as drums and bass deliver the blessed coup de grace. A man of myriad talents, Bellamy shows equal aplomb playing guitar or piano, and is possessed of an outrageous, stratosphere scraping falsetto.

We've been pummelled into submission and yet they hit us with more. The encore is devastating, first, a mammoth 'Starlit' and then, to the delight of those "that remember our debut record", a power flexing 'Muscle Museum'. The finale, when it comes doesn't sound like the end of a mere concert. No, this is the sound of apocalypse. The four horsemen, 'Knights Of Cydonia' galloping our way, their hooves beating out Armageddon rhythms. Shocked and awed, we stumble into the crisp November night.

Francis Jones.
Photographs by Keith Wilson.