

Celebrating twenty years since the birth of the band – and also the twentieth birthday of their acclaimed eponymous album in 2005 – The Magic Numbers’ sold out performance this evening sees the decks of the good ship Thekla crammed to the gills. Though it could be argued that the London group – consisting, uniquely, of two brother and sister pairings – couldn’t quite build on the early momentum afforded by their debut record, their finely crafted mix of indie rock and classic, harmony-soaked pop has seen them amass a most impressive list of touring cohorts; they’ve supported Neil Young, Brian Wilson, Radiohead, The Who, U2 and Bright Eyes.
‘Forever Lost’, the standout lead single from that debut, is as good a place to start as any. An initially slow rendition breaks into its standard pace with Michele Stoddart’s bubbling bass building momentum and – via Angela Gannon’s melodica solo – lead singer Romeo Stoddart already has the crowd taking over vocal duties and clapping along. A few minutes in and we’re already deep into the lively atmos of a thrilling show.
Pointing up to the rafters, Romeo instructs the sound engineer “This guy can come down a bit.” What initially appears to be a humorous chastising of an overly vocal fan in the upper deck, one realises is merely a request to turn an unhelpfully bright spotlight down a couple of notches. And, given how personable and friendly the four musicians are, it’s a realisation that makes sense; an avuncular Romeo engages in stories and banter between pretty much every song.
The floaty ‘Love is a Game’ is a classic slice of soulful pop with Romeo’s finely pitched, bluesy guitar and – in what is the band’s key signature – the redoubtable harmonies of the band’s two female members. Before retro pop nugget ‘Roy Orbison’, Romeo recants the tale of the band’s equipment being stolen from a van, before being almost immediately dumped by a skip, during the band’s previous visit to Bristol. At Romeo’s urging, the crowd clap and cheer at the ‘Big O’s’ namecheck within the song’s second chorus.
The band’s apparent niceness is consistently echoed back from the stage. We have renditions of ‘Happy Birthday’ for not one, but two members of the audience. Also, there’s a natural democratic ethos that affords each member of the group their individual time in the spotlight. The sparse, romantic ‘I See You, You See Me’ – wherein Romeo’s beautifully pitched Epiphone sounds at its most lush – has sister Gannon take over lead vocals. Michele Stoddart – who has an acclaimed career as a solo artist – performs her own quiet and tender ‘Push & Pull’. Later, during the encore, even drummer Sean Gannon gets to stand at the front of the stage as he delivers harmonica at the coda to a lovely cover of Neil Young’s ‘Harvest Moon.’
In fact, this show has Neil Young as a disproportionately frequent reference point. Romeo’s describing the experience of touring with Young leads into an anecdote about his local amp maker being chuffed at seeing one of his creations sitting beside Young’s amp on a prominent tour photograph at the time. Whether intentional or not, Romeo’s guitar playing during subsequent tune ‘Shot In The Dark’ has a distinct, workmanlike nature that echoes Young’s.
It’s a most enjoyable show throughout, perhaps only losing a slight momentum in the “frozen in the moment/blinded by the light” lyrical cliches of ‘Throwing My Heart Away’ and a bit of polish when an intermittent crackling noise – it seems from a mic – causes a couple of confused looks amongst the siblings. ‘Sweet Divide’ is an example of the group’s versatility; it’s more of a driving blues rock, backed with psychedelic keys and Angela swiping her hand forth to stimulate the wailing sounds of a theremin.
The latter stages of the show leave room for a crowd-pleasing triumvirate of tunes from the 20 year old debut; the catchy ‘Love Me Like You’ has Romeo grinning broadly at the call and response contribution of the audience, and the line “All those years gone by” lands as euphorically nostalgic. The bouncily melodic ‘Long Legs’ is included in the encore and ‘Mornings Eleven’ which was being shouted as a song request by a few surprisingly young fans beside me, ends the show.
It’s the sort of show – quality material delivered with effortless bonhomie – that totally vindicates the de rigeur prevailence of anniversary shows within today’s live music scene. Why be cynical when it’s this enjoyable?
Scott Hammond