Live

NME, 10 December 2005 (Carnglaze Caverns, Cornwall)
Tonight, British Sea Power do what they do best: play the most exciting of gigs in the most unusual of places. When Lately climaxes with "Do you like my megalithic rock?!" never have these words made more sense. BSP have quite literally put the rock back into rock'n'roll.

Drowned in Sound, 25 November 2005 (Rock City, Nottingham)
As a communal gathering, nothing beats the intimacy of a British Sea Power gig and when Yan invites all and sundry onto the stage for a choatically improvised Rock in A, the feeling of satisfaction normally gained from watching a good show is quickly transcended into one of honour at having witnessed an extraordinary event. Gig of the year? Quite possibly.

Incendiary Mag, August 2005 (Haldern Festival, Germany)
And on the music thundered, squalls of feedback and the groaning of destroyed equipment all the while backed up by incessant, triumphant drumming. A couple of guys who had repeatedly shouted "das ist illegal!" seemingly gave up the ghost of respectability and began to hit each other in wild abandon on stage. Noble was engaged in a charming waltz with a supporter festooned with vine leaves. Yan reappeared to berate the audience, a half-finished bottle of wine in his hands, seemingly going through some ballet exercise, as he asked the crowd in a sing-song chant, "I hope you liked it, I hope you liked it". We did. Very much.

The Independent, 12 April 2005 (Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh)
As if to prove that they're responsible only to themselves in the end, the slow-building closer Lately escalates into a 15-minute flurry of rising guitars. After such a finale, only the feeling that these are musicians who utterly deserve to join their heroes' massed ranks remains.

Evening Standard, 5 November 2004 (The Garage, London)
During their trademark closing epic frenzy, three of the band ended up surfing across the crowd while feedback screeched demonically. When a band works with guitar, bass and drums it is virtually impossible to come up with anything original, but it is fair to say there is no group quite like British Sea Power.

Mojo, June 2004 (Roxy, Prague)
The crowd's initial bemusement soon turns to delight and when the freak out material gives way to the emotive rocking of songs like Remember Me and Carrion they enthuse in earnest. Not unlike a more enigmatic compliment to Franz Ferdinand, there is sound and spectacle, but with the depth and imaginative richness to keep you snared.

Rockfeedback.com, 6 May 2004 (Cargo, London)
Yan's seductive vocals have all aboard chorusing in union, overwhelmed by BSP's ability to paint the grandeur of nature at its most sublime and romantic. The steamer-in-a-blizzard approach engenders an ecstatic audience quite swept away by the end of it, culminating in a man-overboard situation - the extra drummer being carried on the shoulders of the crowd and guitarist Noble crowd surfing four times. This is a performance behoving triumph and fame.

Daily Telegraph, 27 April 2004 (Academy 2, Manchester)
The looks of wistful joy on the faces of the audience when BSP played Favours in the Beetroot Fields suggest they have found a band to restore their faith in pop music. But the piece de resistance of this astonishing, hilarious, life-enhancing gig was the arrival of the Ursine Ultra, an enormous grizzly bear figure who spent the awesome final song attacking the band. Man's battle with nature may never be won, but British Sea Power put up a jolly good fight.

NME, 20 October 2003 (ULU, London)
British Sea Power have hatched more loopy plans than most mental-ward patients have in a lifetime. Tonight, however, the boys transcend their oddball reputation and become a thrilling rock'n'roll proposition. These Brighton-based loons are twisting insanity into a shape that makes perfect sense.

Popmatters, August 2003 (NorthSix, Brooklyn)
Wood drums with the speed and precision of a man trying to save his own life. Noble and Hamilton, animated like robots short-circuiting, dash about the stage. Eamon parades solo into the crowd, like a wind-up toy out of control. Then there's Yan, who is the maddest of the lot... To find a spot in your heart for British Sea Power is to allow yourself to be colonized. It's to give in to music that ticks like a time bomb. You will be ruled by their chaos.

Playlouder, 15 June 2003
Been to see British Sea Power lately? Boy oh boy. Their live shows, once merely a quaint eccentricity of wood and electricity, have evolved into a chilling, thrilling, all-out assault on the brain -a cinematic hoot for the psychologically sturdy and a headf**k for the emotionally weak. Think David Lynch hosting a sleepover in Kew Gardens. Think Tim Robbins guiding Berlin-era Bowie around the set of Jacob's Ladder. Comparisons, like resistance, are futile.

Sunday Times, 8 June 2003 (Scillonian Club, St Mary's, Isles of Scilly)
In the Scillonian Club what feels like the island's entire population is raising merry hell. Ruddy-faced old men sway at the bar. Grandmothers and five-year-olds essay crazed dance figures. By the end of the night, the club is threatening to explode. "Evening," says one of the regulars. "Fantastic band, wern-ay?" Outside, a heaving mass of locals and band members walk unsteadily though the warm rain to the beach. There is one phrase, and one phrase alone, that comes to mind when describing British Sea Power: the best band in Britain.

NME, 29 April 2003 (Ram Inn, Firle)
It ends with guitarist Noble perched on a window ledge, smashing at cymbals while various band members contribute bird noises. This might be standard fare for bands playing at the Ram Inn, but for the city dwellers it wrestles with our sanity. British Sea Power are clearly on a mission to contort guitar pop into something unique.

Rollingstone.com, 4 September 2002 (Reading Festival)
F**k this puerile drivel, we're going to see British Sea Power, who are everything that Weezer are not... British Sea Power are mad as f**k on every level. All of them have this crazy acid-fried stare, the bass player is wearing tree branches on his head, and one deliriously psych-o-delic tune concludes with singer Yan beating on the drum kit with a large stuffed owl. British Sea Power rule.