The curtains were hoisted up to a Kraftwerk-style Franc Moody. On their straight-edge, LED-lined pedestals, surrounded by light smoke, the only thing missing was robotic movements.

Those moves weren’t just absent; they’d be impossible with the sheer clout of the bass drum that punched out of O2 Academy’s Brixton sound setup like a rhythm-conscious storm.

They had the full banquet laid out for infectious dancing. You can picture it, an evil villain who’s poisoned all the drinks with something that slowly makes everyone dance like a coat belt you’ve trapped in the door that you’ve only just clocked in your wing mirror as you’re driving 60mph.

After taking some time out to toughen up their sound, the duo are back from dragging their disco past through the dirt and showcasing a new soul-funk, indie-dance sound that comes from spending a ridiculous amount of time on a synthesizer; something you’d play down when you talk about it, I’m guessing.

It’s a sound that professionals understand more than an average listener. A cleaner, almost simple sound that you know took hours of refining to achieve. All for a steaming journalist to come and bop his foot to. And obviously, the hundreds of other party-goers looking for a good ol’ dance.

Chewing The Fat was the night's mantra.

The new album took center stage from the start, but how did it align with the expectations of lifelong Franc Moody fans?

Well, I think it went well.

Certainly, Space Between Us and Chewing The Fat from the new record had the audience bouncing into my drink from all angles, but The Light You Bring and Square Pegs In Round Holes, well… fit like something that maybe required a bit of extra force because it didn’t fit flush.

I like the tracks, but the mood dipped. I get it, they’re new, so we’ll have to see how they stand the test of time, but a part of me thinks Chewing The Fat is a more personal record for the duo that has taken them individually to the next level and left some fans behind.

Overall, the show was a riotous celebration. I wasn’t expecting a pint chucked over my head at a Franc Moody gig, but it happened and I’m not upset about it.

It was a testament to the fact that sometimes all you need is a groovy bassline, an energetic stage presence, a guest brass section, some flashing lights, cool shadow tricks, years of polished funk beats that build you a loyal fanbase, and some colourful hair to throw a wild party. 

They finished strong with their older tunes, with In Transit being absolute chaos, and it goes to show that their long-established name and reputation have earned them their right to experiment however they want with their sound, and they’ll always have an audience. 

And y’know what. 

That’s how bands survive the long game.