The biggest band on the planet right now is threatened by their frontman's volatility
Irish people have a tendency to lose all sense and sensibilities when the temperature rises above 20 degrees.
As sun scream application increases, a decrease is seen in the amount of clothing generally worn by the public.
On a balmy day at Malahide Castle, however, The 1975's frontman Matt Healy goes against tradition in a full suit.
The 1975's story has been almost Cinderella-esque - garnering mainstream success in 2012 with their self-titled LP, they were loved and loathed in equal measure. Critics lamented Healy's often garbled vocal-style, but they enjoyed a lot of success among younger audiences.
Their most recent effort, 'i like the way you sleep, for you are so beautiful, yet so unaware of it', (no, really), lacked the hooks that their first album offered, but managed to change the tune of NME Magazine. Having previously awarded them the Worst Band award, 'i like it when you sleep...' earned the moniker of Album Of The Year not that long after.
Back at Malahide - where they are suitably adored - upon being instructed by the giddy crowd to "take it off", he is incensed.
"Oh fuck off," he says. "More lad culture, that's we gotta beat."
Immediately following this, he begins slowly unbuttoning his shirt, as the array of teenage revellers witness their wildest dreams and fan-fiction come true.
Everything seems a little ... Off. (And I'm not just talking about the tepid strip-tease).
The set starts off fun - really fun, because that's what they do best as a band. It's a big-boned instrumental opener in their self-titled track The 1975, before the INXS-inspired glam rock behemoth that is Love Me.
A nice couplet follows in two particular career highlights for the band - UGH! is Healy's dizzying ode to his drug of choice; while Heart Out is a soft synthy coo in a lover's ear.
Then, it all gets a bit stilted.
Menswear doesn't work as a track as is - it takes too long to gain any momentum, and stunts what could be an outrageously fun set. It doesn't help that it's followed by You - a sweet, but simpering, electric ballad.
Healy begs for quiet before Lostmyhead - by then it's apparent that some overwhelming mania has taken over.
For someone who recently admitted to being entirely clean bar the occasional joint, he looks deranged - mouthing angrily at the crowd as his eyeliner runs down his face.
As he attempts to navigate the crowd, security are forced to prop him up for the majority of his time spent among the masses, like a rock 'n' roll rag doll of sorts.
When he's not snapping at the crowd, he's barely audible - during Fallingforyou, we're treated to airy brushes off the microphone, and not much else.
This Must Be My Dream injects some much needed energy into the set before the encore, only for it to be siphoned off as quickly.
Medicine - song which they contributed to Zane Lowe's critically panned soundtrack rework of Drive - is gorgeous, but does not suit the atmosphere of the gig. Hot, sweaty teenagers have no patience for dreamy soundscapes, they just want bangers.
Closing appropriately with The Sound, it's an overdue reminder of what they are capable of - boisterous unapologetic pop that can't be taken too seriously. That, and the intense light show accompanying the track would almost make you forget about Healy's overblown antics earlier on.
Healy's behaviour at the Malahide Castle raises serious concerns about his general well-being, and results in a lot more misses than hits throughout the day.
It's disappointing, because as a band they remain a bit of an enigma while simultaneously enjoying serious worldwide success.
But maybe there isn't as much to them as has been made out - perhaps they are a band that is heavy on style, and not on substance.
If Saturday's performance is anything to go by, that sentiment certainly rings true.