Live Review

Twenty Twenty – Academy 3, Manchester

• 1st Nov 2010

I have never felt as out of place as I did last night watching Twenty Twenty perform. With an audience that was distinctly pre-drinking age, I feel sure that I was the oldest punter in the room. And that’s at the grand old age of 24. Where have the years gone eh? What if an emergency of some sort was to kick off, would I have to take responsibility and save the day/contact various parents?

Thankfully, the evening went off without such drama. For such a young band, Twenty Twenty have already achieved a fair bit – several headline tours, enviable support slots for Kids In Glass Houses and Scouting For Girls and a dedicated fanbase are all testament to the work that they (and undoubtedly their promotions agency) are putting in. Needless to say, I was excited to see if they would deliver upon their promise when playing live.

But first, the main support act! Ever wondered what James Bourne of Busted/Son of Dork fame is up to nowadays? Nope, neither have I, but as he was supporting I dutifully found out. Going by the name of FutureBoy these days, he seems to be aiming for the sort of synth-pop sounds that bands like Cute Is What We Aim For and The Rocket Summer churn out. A watered-down, less catchy version that is. Enough said about poor old James.

So, on to the main event. The band that me and my merry band of 14 year olds have been waiting all night (past bedtime methinks!) to see, Twenty Twenty. And you know what, for all of my elderly cynicism, they weren’t half bad! Polished to perfection and with as many “oh oh oh!”s as you can possibly cram into a song, they have clearly struck up a tight bond with their target audience in a similar fashion to their peers McFly. Their songs did blend into one big mulit-coloured mess at times, but there is no denying that they were incredibly catchy, going down a storm with the young crowd.

In short, if radio-friendly, bubblegum pop tunes are your kind of thing, you can do far worse than checking out Twenty Twenty.

Tom Antony Davies
Twenty Twenty, Academy 3, Manchester, 28th October 2010
Support: FutureBoy

I have never felt as out of place as I did last night watching Twenty Twenty perform. With an audience that was distinctly pre-drinking age, I feel sure that I was the oldest punter in the room. And that’s at the grand old age of 24. Where have the years gone eh? What if an emergency of some sort was to kick off, would I have to take responsibility and save the day/contact various parents?

Thankfully, the evening went off without such drama. For such a young band, Twenty Twenty have already achieved a fair bit – several headline tours, enviable support slots for Kids In Glass Houses and Scouting For Girls and a dedicated fanbase are all testament to the work that they (and undoubtedly their promotions agency) are putting in. Needless to say, I was excited to see if they would deliver upon their promise when playing live.

But first, the main support act! Ever wondered what James Bourne of Busted/Son of Dork fame is up to nowadays? Nope, neither have I, but as he was supporting I dutifully found out. Going by the name of FutureBoy these days, he seems to be aiming for the sort of synth-pop sounds that bands like Cute Is What We Aim For and The Rocket Summer churn out. A watered-down, less catchy version that is. Enough said about poor old James.

So, on to the main event. The band that me and my merry band of 14 year olds have been waiting all night (past bedtime methinks!) to see, Twenty Twenty. And you know what, for all of my elderly cynicism, they weren’t half bad! Polished to perfection and with as many “oh oh oh!”s as you can possibly cram into a song, they have clearly struck up a tight bond with their target audience in a similar fashion to their peers McFly. Their songs did blend into one big mulit-coloured mess at times, but there is no denying that they were incredibly catchy, going down a storm with the young crowd.

In short, if radio-friendly, bubblegum pop tunes are your kind of thing, you can do far worse than checking out Twenty Twenty.