The British rock band plays the UNO Lakefront Arena on November 26, and we're giving away a pair of tickets courtesy of Live Nation.

the 1975 press photo
The 1975

“To experience The 1975 as intended, you have to leave behind your smarmy posturing and give up trying to be cool,” Stereogum’s Chris DeVille wrote. “Sincerity is scary, but for [Matty] Healy and his army, insincerity is the real terror.”

The 1975 will play the UNO Lakefront Arena on November 26, and we’re giving away a pair of tickets courtesy of Live Nation. The band currently serves the same function that dubstep did a decade ago by splitting listeners along generational lines. Rock fans of a certain age have a hard time accepting that The 1975 are a rock band—a point debated in the band’s favor during a 2018 episode of The New York Times’ “Podcast”—or big enough to play arenas. DeVille asked that question when he reviewed the British band’s show in Columbus, Ohio this May. “Who are all these people?” he wondered. “This was my first time seeing the 1975, and I was shocked at the sea of humanity in front of me, packed together closely with no easy path to the front.”

For those who define rock by its instrumentation and level of aggression, The 1975 is an enigma, but for those who use more dynamic yardsticks, it’s easy to understand the band in those terms. Healy occupies the rock star’s outsized persona, being his loudmouthed self on an epic scale. His biggest fear, he once announced, “is becoming Sting,” and he’s unafraid of his own contradictions and neuroses. Musically, he and the band borrow from everything under the sun, creating an eclectic new thing out of sounds borrowed from everybody from Radiohead to Lil UzI Vert, unifying it all with their own personal sense of style. 

They’re touring in support of their most recent album, A Brief Inquiry into Online Relationships—Is there a more 2019 album title?—which Ryan Dombal reviewed at Pitchfork, writing

When it comes to the 1975’s more widescreen scope—filtering in culture’s ills along with personal ones—the album hits a daunting apex with “Love It If We Made It.” It is the rare Anthem for Our Time that actually gets the job done: This thing holds the mirror up to our collective faces so close you can see your breath on it. As gargantuan drums clear a path before him, Healy mimics the endless scroll, where dead refugees and dead rappers all slide by on the same timeline.

Click here for a chance to win a pair of tickets, or enter on My Spilt Milk’s Facebook or Instagram feeds. The contest closes Friday, August 9, at 5 p.m.