@ ABC, Glasgow, on Thu 12 Nov 2015

Everything Everything first appeared, at the end of the last decade, in a flurry of musical ideas – shifting tempos, electronic quirks, vertiginous vocals, “contemporary” song titles (MY KZ UR BF), and schoolkid lyrics: ‘I wanna know what happened to your boyfriend, ’cause he was looking at me like “Whoa!”’ It was difficult to tell the inspired from the irritating. Over the course of three albums though, the mist has cleared, and it’s obvious these boys know what they’re doing. On this year’s Get To Heaven, they’ve truly found their stride.

Tonight on stage in Glasgow, their presence is immediate. A two-tier stage, with drummer Michael Spearman perched atop, elevates, literally and metaphorically, the rhythm of the group. Changing swathes of block colour light the stage to captivating effect. Singer Jonathan Higgs is in the same kind of medieval tabard he sported last month on Later… with Jools Holland, and the others co-ordinate. This is a band who are crying out to be seen. To The Blade is a little limp as an opener, as indeed it is on the album, but it’s slick, and by the time they hit Kemosabe three songs in, things are going swimmingly – tight, polished, powerful.

Then, for a moment, the wheels come off. Alex Robertshaw’s guitar cuts out in the middle of the aforementioned MY KZ UR BF. With keyboards and bass carrying the song, it’s strangely barely noticeable, the only sign of crisis being the presence of a frantic roadie flinging around guitar leads. But there follows a sizeable break in proceedings; the band end up singing Happy Birthday to an audience member as a filler. ‘Now we’re going to give you the best fucking gig ever,’ says Higgs by way of apology when it’s all sorted.

It’s not quite that, but there’s no complaints. Schoolin’ goes down well, although the synth hook is still a potential nails-down-blackboard moment. In Regret they’ve finally created a song which is as melodic as it is insistent, and there’s no trouble getting the crowd chanting along. That song also marks the band’s move into more existential lyrical territory, a move matched by Spring / Sun / Winter / Dread, glorious in its recorded version, though a little flat as a main set closer here, coming as it does after the barmy Photoshop Handsome.

The band finally leave us to the strains of Distant Past, another fine example of how confidently they’ve learnt to grasp the reins of their inventiveness. But for the mid-set malfunction, this is a sparkling performance from a band moving in an interesting direction.