Live from London
Live From London is Keane’s pass at storytelling: less affected, distilled and stripped-bare versions of the band’s songs. Unfortunately what’s left after this disrobing is the undeniably clap-along-at-the-campfire core of the music, a gigantic reminder of why you’re a little ashamed of liking Keane to begin with. It’s still vocally contagious and still frothing with humility, but what makes the band’s studio sound so compelling is the marriage of sugarcoated melody and pingpong rhythms with textured, storm-like grandeur. These versions drop the ladder to the ground. I appreciate Keane feeling comfortable enough with us to strip, but the nudity is a bit too pristine. It’s probably best if they put their clothes back on and don’t let it happen again.