Editors Top Hot Hot Heat And Louis XIV

I'll admit it: I haven't been properly keeping up on my NME. A relative newcomer to the Editors party, I hadn't quite grasped how big the Birmingham, U.K. quartet had become since the release of 2005's The Back Room. Yet here they were on a North American tour, taking a headlining spot over tourmates Hot Hot Heat and packing the cavernous Kool Haus.

As soon as they filed onto the stage and hit the first thunderous chords of "Bones," I understood why. Editors have often been called great recyclers, taking direction from the pantheon of dreary English post-punk, but they've managed to master a melodic grandeur that gives their songs an epic quality. Their driving-but-succinct style lends itself perfectly to big venues — flashing lights, screaming fans, and plenty of room for guitarist Chris Urbanowicz's trebly Rickenbacker leads to reverberate.

Singer Tom Smith, who also handles rhythm guitar and keys, served as a perfect focal point for both the band's sound and their stage show. Punctuating his often repetitive, earnestly delivered lyrics with flails and air-grasps, Smith led the foursome through a tight 90-minute set that effectively covered both their debut and last year's The End Has A Start. The stage banter was minimal with Smith taking a couple of brief opportunities to reassure the crowd how happy the band were to be back in Toronto. Judging by the rapturous cheers and singing along that took place to singles "Munich" and "Blood," however, Smith still made a clear connection with the crowd.

Neophytes to the band ran the risk of feeling like the songs were blending together throughout the set, since Editors don't do much to vary their sound from the general formula. But the band, particularly Smith, put enough energy into the show to keep everyone right there with them. When Smith clambered onto his piano during "The Raving Rats" and belted out a verse in an awkward kneel, it was easily the most rock 'n' roll thing I'd seen all evening. Between the slick musicianship and consistent showmanship, Editors proved that they have what it takes to draw crowds.

A band that didn't mesh quite as well with the venue, however, were Hot Hot Heat. In the years since 2002's Make Up The Breakdown, the Vancouver quartet have certainly become big enough to play a venue like the Kool Haus. But their manic dance-rock begs for manic dancing. It's better suited to throwing down in a sweaty basement than to staring at an enormous stage with a crowd full of dour beer-drinkers.

Though the rest of the band were mostly flat, singer Steve Bays did his damndest to keep the energy level high in the room, even after a keyboard malfunction hampered the beginning of the set. Singles "Middle Of Nowhere" and "Goodnight Goodnight," bolstered by crowd singalongs, were more exciting live than their recorded counterparts "Le Le Low," a resurrected older tune, got the crowd moving just as much as some of their more well-known cuts. But the freakout that I'd been praying would materialize during "Talk To Me, Dance With Me," unfortunately, never happened. Bays' shrieking keyboards were unusually piercing, effectively burying Dustin Hawthorne's brilliantly mobile bass line and adding a noisy quality to the show overall.

A few things I learned about Louis XIV during their opening set were: they're not French dudes, as I'd originally thought (though singer Jason Hill did, perhaps ill-advisedly, growl "Bastille soul!" into the mic at one point during the set); they're not doing anything particularly groundbreaking musically; and they're a pretty good time live, anyway. The California foursome's likeable glam-rock just about made up for increasingly lame lyrical come-ons. ("Take off your top, baby, show me a little tit" soon descended into "Bang me like the girls in Hong Kong.") They brought a little sensitivity back to the proceedings, however, with the addition of two violinists and guitarist Brian Karscig's dulcet vocal solos. Karscig's verses also gave Hill an opportunity to take a swig off a full bottle of Yellow Tail wine. It wasn't quite as rock 'n' roll as Tom Smith's piano-scaling, but he did his best.