Kings of Leon @ Hyde Park, London

More than any other band in recent years, Kings of Leon are a group that polarise people. There are the old school, first two albums (and bits of three) purist fans, longing for the days when the Followill clan were an eight-legged machine of sex and grot held together by beards and hair. And there are the new guard, entirely un-arsed about Molly or her chambers but a fan of Epic Choruses and Stadium Anthems.

At Hyde Park today the majority, as expected, fall into the second category and as such the big league line-up of support acts peak and trough accordingly.

Nashville natives Mona benefit from the crowd allegiance, as is fairly expected from a band that sound not exactly dissimilar to the headliners, and kick the day off in high spirits. White Lies, too, are embraced with open indie arms, but it’s Paul Weller – a man who really shouldn’t have to support anyone – that suffers most. The legend’s pretty great recent solo work (predominantly taken from ’22 Dreams’) goes down with relatively little enthusiasm. Shame.

But the real surprise, and by God it’s a pleasant one, comes with the main event. Maybe they’re trying to return to their roots in some way, maybe someone fucked up the set list, or maybe they’re just bored of everyone screaming for ‘Sex on Fire’, but tonight Kings of Leon take the old route.

‘Four Kicks’, ‘Taper Jean Girl’ and ‘Pistol of Fire’ are all cranked out in the first ten minutes. Then there’s ‘Charmer’, ‘The Bucket’, ‘Molly’s Chambers, an epic ‘California Waiting’ and so on and so on. Of course they play the Big Hits, but even a glance at the set list (just five out of 25 tracks are from their latest LP) says everything. The Followills can still pull it out of the bag.