Review: STEREOPHONIC, The Duke Of York's Theatre

There is a sequence in Stereophonic that is gorgeously goosebump-inducing. An unnamed British-American rock band are locking in to record their sophomore album. The stakes are high. Their previous offering has just hit number one. It’s late at night and lead guitarist Peter mercilessly calls for another take. Glares from weary eyes fire across the room. “I have an idea.” His face is scrunched with divine focus. “Drop the BPM” he tyrannically commands. Uncertain at first, the track slowly finds its form. Then, a strand at a time, it materialises. Before you realise it a breathless hurricane of musical ecstasy has exploded on stage.

It’s a soul stirring feat of creative wizardry, one that wholly justifies its stonking thirteen nominations (and five wins - including best play) at last year's Tonys. The West End transfer of Stereophonic is a full fat slice of Americana: anyone who dreamt of being in a band might just find those dreams resuscitated.

Flares and floppy hair, we are in a 1976 studio in Sausalito California. Cabin fever sets into the wood panelled studio. A heavy reliance on a smorgasbord of intoxicants does little to ease the tension. You’ll detect echoes of Fleetwood Mac in the smoky vocals, wistful lyrics, and tight rhythms, perfectly summoned by Arcade Fire’s Will Butler. But it’s also detectable in the warring transatlantic factions and psychological meltdowns of exasperated bandmates each battling shared and individual demons. Music is definitely not the food of love here.

Dazzling hyperrealism soars because each character is an iceberg hiding their true depth. Lucy Karczewski tugs at the heartstrings as immensely talented Diana, riddled with doubt under Peter’s coercive control. Peter’s own scars are gently revealed: an unloving father has shaped Peter into a relentless perfectionist, taking his anger out on everyone around him. Meanwhile, bassist Reg battles addiction with perpetual scene-stealer Zachary Hart capturing his narcotic haziness with tragicomic brilliance.

Not even to mention their musical prowess, as immense as it is immersive. We sit peering in over the shoulders of the sound engineers. Breezy Californians Grover and Charlie riff off each other’s meandering thoughts like a stoner Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, piloting the mixing console like a spaceship cockpit as the band conjure musical magic.

We feel like we are in the band, mixing harmonies, dubbing vocals, finding take after take exasperating. Writer David Adjmi accentuates the organic feel with conversations that overlap, slicing into each other with insecure ferocity, all finely tuned by director Daniel Aukin.

Best not overthink Stereophonic. There are no platitudinous philosophies underpinning the drama. Just utter reverence for the almost mystic intrigue of the creative process, and a knee-deep wading into the knotted lives of the flawed humans crashing together like tectonic plates that make it. Even if the denouement doesn’t quite deliver, Stereophonic is effortlessly cool. We're not worthy.

Stereophonic plays at The Duke of York’s Theatre until 11 October

Buy Tickets to Stereophonic