The 1975's Latitude headline set proves they're more than just another band

The slow drone begins. It's a sound that has ushered in The 1975 at shows around the globe in an 18 months that can only be described as seismic. Building over the course of 20 minutes, it flickers and jolts - what comes after is a phenomenon in action. Tonight isn't about headline slots, it's not about any other show, it's about closing a chapter on an era that has taken The 1975 into The A-leagues and beyond - carving out their own stage in the process. Exuding in the swagger and glam-soaked honesty that has defined 'I like it when you sleep...', Latitude is witness to the show that The 1975 were born to play. 'Love Me' cuts straight in with a wink, kicking off a night where every track echoes with the sound of festival headliners an entire generation have been waiting for. The points and struts of Matty Healy are flowing with the occasion, a touch of iconic stardust already wrapping itself around him. When he screams for more, it comes straight from his bones - leaving every ounce on the stage. The eye-catching blend of genres sear from the get-go. 'A Change Of Heart' is crooned back like the slick heartbreak ode of the summer, 'Loving Someone' is poured with that dedication for unity and compassion, 'UGH!' gyrates in nightclub ties, 'The Ballad Of Me And My Brain' bristles and pushes against claustrophobic worlds that spill into a thunderous reaction and 'She's American' flexes its glam-soaked guns like a long-lost anthem from Sunset Boulevard. Through the artistic bliss that comes with the album's instrumental title track, it's a staggering reminder of how boundary-pushing their work has become. "Tonight is an end of an era, but the beginning of a new one called Music For Cars", Matty states - launching into a more than simply rare version of '28', a track written when the band were still known as Drive Like I Do. It's an astonishing throwback that can only light the fire of what's to come. A heavy monsoon that rips the stage apart, to say it's jaw-dropping would be an understatement. With further rarities like 'You' getting an airing, Latitude is a culmination of everything The 1975 have represented and gone through to date. When 'Somebody Else' lights the night skies above, it does so like an engulfing wrap of comfort. When 'Fallingforyou' beckons the packed field closer, it does it with something undeniably real. 'Girls'. 'Heart Out'. 'The City'. By the time things jolt towards pandemonium with 'Sex', a singalong whip of 'Chocolate' that drowns out the band themselves, and the hysteria that erupts when 'The Sound' lights the curtain call - it's enough to shake the foundations of Henham Park to new levels. The icing on the cake of a moment in modern musical history. For a band that 18 months ago were a beloved glance at the potential future of British music, they leave it as globe-conquering purveyors of modern pop, influencing countless others in the process. Tonight doesn't feel like a proving ground for a new headliner. That's because they've been ready and waiting for this moment from the moment they stepped out with the baby pink blinders behind them. More than that, they sit as a band that in decades to come, we can call ours. The epicentre will revolve around tonight. The 1975 is not a band. It's not a soundtrack. It's me. It's you. It's the people gathered around you. Few bands transcend a gang, but The 1975 are a nation of their own. The widescreen neon may have dimmed, but the future is begging to be written.