Maroon 5, Wembley Arena, London<br/>Genius/GZA, Koko, London
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference."Every single time we do this is a dream come true," Maroon 5's singer Adam Levine tells their fans near the end. But it's hard to imagine what that dream might have been. Ten million sales and two Grammies down the line, and Maroon 5 remain resolutely second-division. Levine moves like a much less gracious Justin Timberlake, while limp guitars give stilted rhythm to forlorn rock. It's hard to imagine any teenage hopeful going to sleep and wishing for this.
The band enter the arena to screams from the crowd, and proceed to rock out with gusto. To anyone who has heard the antiseptic sound, insipid tunes and lyrical bad grace of second album It Won't Be Soon Before Long, these first few minutes are a shock. But even as a secret hard-rock band, there's a vacuum at the heart of their music, a lack of momentum and force.
When Levine essays a soul-man falsetto, they recall Hall & Oates, while "Won't Go Home Without You" cribs from The Police. A bit of Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight" completes an unhip triptych. Pressing so many familiar buttons is one way for such a mediocre band to sell 10 million. Hits including the jaunty Jackson 5 funk of "Sunday Morning" help finish the job. The enthusiasm of the crowd proves that someone loves them. But Maroon 5 seem a botched experiment; musical failures who've somehow bluffed their way to the top.
The fashion for performing albums as if they're classical pieces has rarely extended to hip-hop, but Genius/GZA's Liquid Swords (1995) is a good place to start. GZA disposes of Liquid Swords like a pleasant but inessential chore. Belying his reputation for creative precision, GZA tonight prefers freestyles and loose chat to tense music. "Killer Bees", with its rising and sinking siren, bass pressure and hypnotic loop, is an exception. Generally, though, this is a curiously casual set from a man uninterested in the reverence Liquid Swords affords him. GZA is more ordinary than his moniker; not a Genius, just a talented, satisfied guy.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments