Review: King Krule, Marble Factory – ‘A moment of mutual adoration between artist and fan’

Subdued in anticipation, silence engulfed the legendary halls of Marble Factory, the pitter-patter of sweat dripping onto the crowd from its ceiling the only thing to be heard.

Emerging with an effortless swagger and his characteristically nonchalant persona, King Krule would go on to perform a set wrought with pensiveness, brood, and raw passion.

Nobody knows just how to deliver beauty in devastation quite like Archy Marshall.

The London-based artist’s performance comes just three days following the release of his fourth studio album, Space Heavy, an album cryptic in its heartbreak but unwavering in its authenticity.

With subject matter of romantic precariousness, the struggles of newfound parenthood and the uncertainties that come with it all, the project’s lyricism combines Marshall’s stereotypical melancholia with a slick and woozy sound.

Whilst UV rays were undoubtedly avoided, what was certainly not escaped was the heat – Marble Factory quickly became a warehouse-sized sauna as the room filled up.

Thankfully, bottles of water were aplenty, with Marble Factory’s security staff on hand to ensure that dehydration couldn’t put a dampener on anybody’s spirits.

The venue now teeming with the kind of Carhartt-clad, baseball cap-wearing hipsters you’d come to expect from a King Krule show, Pretty V, a past collaborator of Marshall, delivered one of the most unhinged supporting sets I’ve perhaps ever seen.

I mean that not as a criticism, his performance skilfully injected some much-needed energy into a seemingly lethargic Bristol crowd, however, he and his DJ really appeared as if they were on another planet as they delivered a short set of trap beat-infused abstract hip-hop.

Thirty minutes pass and the stage becomes beamed in a sea of blue; emerging one-by-one, blasé in fashion, each member of Krule’s band quickly takes their respective position on stage.

Marshall follows, the fieriness of his hair and the shine from his signature gold tooth cutting through the stage’s blue lights as he readies himself front and centre of the venue.

With an air of disdain towards the crowd and an aloof expression, Marshall remains muted, choosing not to interact with the audience and maintain his ominous yet sombre persona.

In appropriately sombre fashion, Krule kicks off with a rendition of Perfecto Miserable, a track of both infatuation and heartbreak that deftly highlights Krule’s talents in lyricism.

Marshall is revered for the melancholy and dejection that exists all throughout the writing in his expansive catalogue, however, lyrics often unintentionally take a back-seat at a gig and it’s easy to get lost within the sound instead.

This was far from the case; each lyric was clear and hit like a brick which is perhaps as much of a compliment to the sound engineers as it is to Krule’s writing itself.

Throughout the set, Krule would masterfully weave through his glowing discography in a silky, uninterrupted fashion.

From new cuts like Cellular to classic, fan favourites like Easy Easy, King Krule maintained the crowd’s energy throughout the night, with passion not dwindling and fans impressively already knowing the words to many of the tracks off of his new album released just days before.

A particular highlight, as demonstrated by the rousing reaction its first notes received from the crowd, was Marshall’s performance of Space Heavy’s lead single Seaforth.

Far from the scathing yowls heard previously in Pink Shell or the despondent poetry of fan favourite, Baby Blue, heard later, the track is a dulcet ballad of the joys of finding peace in an otherwise manic world.

Krule’s performance of Seaforth was nothing short of breath-taking, but perhaps more importantly provided the audience a very much welcomed minute to recharge some energy from the mosh pits that were regularly opening up in certain pockets of the crowd.

After an impressive 16 tracks, Marshall would depart the stage, absent of a smile but brandishing double peace signs to the enamoured Bristol crowd.

Murmurs spread through those present – questions of “Encore?” echoing throughout the room as the audience waits on in eager anticipation.

The stage once again lit in blue, Krule and his band re-emerge, giving no hints as to what song may be played. “It has to be Out Getting Ribs”, I hear multiple times from those around me, but I was firm in my belief in that being too good to be true.

How wrong was I? When I tell you I’ve heard few things louder than the roar that erupted upon the track’s first note I tell no lie and it was a true goosebumps moment.

This is peak King Krule; this is peak crying in your room at 3 AM music and it was of course even more powerful to hear live.

Yet, perhaps most fittingly this was a true testament to the unity and togetherness that music can bring; each and every word was rallied back to Marshall and plenty of tears were shed by many in the room.

In what appears a rare moment from Marshall’s otherwise detached character, this felt like a true moment of mutual adoration between artist and fan.

Departing into the Bristol night I’m in no doubt that most of those in the crowd will have had two things in mind. Firstly, that they had just witnessed greatness, but second, and perhaps more vitally, thank God it’s a bit cooler out here.

Main photo: Josh Templeman

Read next:

• Review: Steve Earle, St George’s – ‘The voice of a fallen angel in a room full of ecstasy’
• Review: Maddie Morris, St Georges – ‘A socially conscious songwriter’
• Review: Bell Hardy, Downend Folk & Roots – ‘She was, to put it simply, magnificent’

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