Some gigs are just sweaty. Some are unforgettable. The Enemy’s night at Oxford’s O2 Academy was both.
Less of a gig, and more of a blistering, close-quarters masterclass in how to turn vintage indie bangers into something alive and dangerous, Tom Clarke and co. came out swinging with Aggro, the perfect opener and a signal that this wasn’t going to be a polite, arms-folded evening. Within seconds, the floor was moving as one – beer in the air, elbows flying, voices rising in unison. From there, the set rolled hard through Away From Here, Pressure, and Had Enough, each track landing like a reminder of just how tight this band has always been when it counts.
The Oxford crowd, predictably, gave it everything. By We’ll Live and Die in These Towns, the room was a single organism – strangers arm in arm, shouting every word. It was there, it was real, and it was visceral; the sense that these songs, nearly two decades on, still mean something.
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It’s also worth mentioning the power of the two new songs the band exhibited on this otherwise glum October night.
Set for an imminent release, comeback single Not Going Your Way is an instantaneous floor-filler, arriving complete with a chorus you can’t help but sing along to and the kind of quickfire energy that’ll soon turn it into an indie disco staple. Similarly, Trouble – the second of the new tracks debuted on the night – is a more punk-driven, four-to-the-floor affair, with a chant-along chorus, and similarly destined to become a fan favourite.Â
Sound-wise, the band were on fierce form. Tom Clarke’s vocals cut clean through the mix, raw but disciplined. Andy Hopkins’ basslines thudded with precision, and Liam Watts’ drumming kept everything razor-sharp. This wasn’t a nostalgic stumble through the past – it was a band still in control of their weapons. The small scale of the venue amplified the intensity rather than limiting it. Every note felt like it was being played three feet from your chest.
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Later, Technodanceaphobic, Pressure, and 40 Days & 40 Nights hit like controlled detonations – urgent, unpredictable, the sound of a band with something still to prove.
And then, before we knew it, we’d reached the final, emphatic release of the night’s encore. Be Somebody, No Time for Tears, and the forever-euphoric closer of This Song, all delivered with that trademark grit and refusal to coast. Clarke barely needed to sing by the end; the crowd did it for him.
No lights, no spectacle, no gloss. Just heat, sound, and the unmistakable pulse of a band that never forgot what made them vital in the first place. Oxford got a show that was loud, lean, and gloriously human, and showcased The Enemy at their best: honest, urgent, and absolutely alive.
