A cold, grey, windswept, damp and drizzly November night did not seem like the best occasion for The Thrills’ third visit to Norwich. The weather was totally at odds with the Irish band’s sun-bleached, American-tinged, warm and fuzzy melodies. The Dead 60s Although they were playing inside, it still seemed like a lot would be needed from the band to counteract the terrible conditions outside, especially when support band The Dead 60s did nothing to improve the atmosphere. Devoid of any stage presence, they ploughed through their set as if they were marching in the rain outside, their performance lacking any hint of emotion, originality or enjoyment. Their songs were not much better – anodyne and predictable imitations of many greater bands that have gone before, from Madness to Joy Division, Kraftwerk to The Jam. While the crowd may not have been there to see them, it would have been nice if the band had indulged in a little interaction, such as the occasional hello or thank you. As it was, they finished their set in silence and walked off arrogantly into the shadows, despite failing to bring anything positive to the venue, or even fill it with their songs. "The Trills" It was a marked and much-needed improvement then when The Thrills walked on stage. They were greeted with a rapturous applause that took over the UEA and would continue to do so after every song they played. "Hi, we’re The Trills," singer Conor Deasy announced midway through opening song Tell Me Something I Don’t Know. This sweet mispronunciation of his band’s name was one of only a few signs throughout the night of their Irish roots. Still, their origin was of little importance – what mattered were the songs. Now with two albums to draw material from, it was evident to see how much the band had grown since the release of their debut record, So Much For The City, a little more than a year ago. While it was the two best-known songs from that album – Big Sur and Santa Cruz (You’re Not That Far) – which got the best reception, the atmosphere throughout was electric and awe-inspiring. Parrot fashion Every time Conor clapped along to a song, the entire crowd clapped with him. When he held the microphone aloft so they could sing the chorus to Old Friends, New Lovers every voice joined in. He was a puppet master, commanding each member of the audience with their own set of strings. And if they weren’t already worshipping the band as best they could, with one flick of the wrist he could have made them all kneel down and do it that way.
Yet this adulation was thoroughly deserved. Where the band’s recorded output can be a little two-dimensional and saccharine, live they were wholly 3D. Whether the result of a cold or a sore throat or just the way it sounds live, Conor’s voice was raspy and croaky and, as a result, so much richer than it is on record. Tight performance The band played a seamlessly tight set, mixing old songs effortlessly with new, clearly as thrilled (pun not intended) to be where they were as the crowd was. "This is the third time we’ve been to Norwich," said the singer with a decidedly American accent, "and it’s been better each time." "To come from playing the NME Awards to a few people still eating their dinner to selling out tonight is just amazing. Thank you so much." The emotion, both in the speeches and in the songs, was entirely genuine and the band had as much respect for the audience as the audience had for the group. And though there were only a few lucky enough to join the mini-stage invasion at the end, it was clear that, if they hadn’t quite managed to take Norwich to sunny California, The Thrills brought sunny California to Norwich. It may only have been 90 minutes long, but in that time some thousand or so people had a spectacular holiday. The Thrills and The Dead 60s played at the UEA in Norwich on Saturday 13 November 2004. | 
