If there were ever proof that teenage crushes can age like a decent bottle of wine, it arrived at Halifax’s Piece Hall on Saturday night. More than two decades after bursting onto the scene with floppy fringes and infectious guitar-pop, McFly returned looking older, sounding better and somehow still capable of making thousands of grown adults scream like it was 2004.
The evening kicked off with Remember Monday, who wasted little time living up to their name. Armed with immaculate three-part harmonies, sharp country-pop songwriting and enough charm to win over even those still queuing for drinks, the trio set the tone perfectly. If anyone had arrived thinking they were simply there to warm the crowd up, they left having stolen a fair few hearts along the way.
Then came Twin Atlantic, who did what Twin Atlantic have always done best: turned the volume up until the ancient stone walls of The Piece Hall probably started checking their insurance policies. Sam McTrusty led the charge with trademark intensity, delivering a set full of huge riffs and even bigger choruses. It was loud, unapologetic and exactly the sort of rock ‘n’ roll palate cleanser needed before the night’s main event.
By the time McFly bounded onto the stage, the sold-out crowd needed little encouragement. From the opening moments, Danny Jones, Tom Fletcher, Dougie Poynter and Harry Judd looked like four mates who’d accidentally become one of Britain’s biggest pop bands—and were still finding it mildly amusing.
There wasn’t much time for catching your breath. Five Colours in Her Hair, Star Girl, Obviously, One for the Radio and All About You came thick and fast, each greeted like an old friend who still owes you a tenner. The beauty of a McFly show is that everyone knows the words, whether they admit to it beforehand or not.
What could easily have become a nostalgia exercise instead felt surprisingly fresh. The band attacked every song with genuine enthusiasm rather than polite obligation, and the years have only sharpened their live performance. Danny remains a human espresso shot, Tom effortlessly steers both crowd and band with dry humour, Dougie somehow gets cooler with age, and Harry continues to make drumming look far easier than it has any right to.
Their between-song banter remains one of the band’s secret weapons. There’s no over-rehearsed arena patter here—just enough self-awareness to acknowledge they’ve now reached the stage where many of their fans have mortgages, children and suspiciously creaky knees. Somehow, none of that mattered once the choruses kicked in.
The Piece Hall once again played its part brilliantly. As darkness settled over the historic courtyard, the sandstone walls, summer sky and sea of raised phones created the sort of backdrop that makes outdoor gigs here feel just that little bit special.
McFly have reached the enviable stage where they no longer have anything to prove, yet they still perform like they do. Rather than coasting on memories, they’ve become a band entirely comfortable in their own skin—happy to laugh at themselves while delivering hit after hit with infectious energy.
In an age where reunions often feel like expensive therapy sessions for ageing bands, McFly remain the exception. Saturday night wasn’t about reliving your youth—it was about realising you never actually had to leave it behind. And judging by the smiles leaving Halifax afterwards, nobody was in any rush to grow up.
Words and Photos by Jonathan Cohen
