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Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
“nos·tal·gi·a n. 1. A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.”
I was a little late to the Presidents of the United States party – don’t get me wrong just about anyone of a certain age has at least heard “Peaches” and can sing along to the refrain or wax nostalgic about the ninjas in the video – as could I, but I didn’t start listening to them on repeat until a friend of mine out in Japan reintroduced me to their self-titled album. After that I got a hold of their other material but never really knew where to go with it and what albums to listen to and so I ended up on settling for the smile-along, sing-along adventures of small animals on their original record. After one listen too many I could’ve sworn that album was a concept album…
And then they put on this gig. Sah-WEET!
As I arrived, there was a support band. Moving on…
The crowd was about half-full, perhaps reflecting the timing of the Sunday evening event or just the nature of a band that released their biggest album over 15 years ago. The band arrived with a quirky voice-over with what I imagine were in-jokes and references to things I didn’t quite get (“Razzle Magazine?”) but had everyone cheering and laughing before they had set foot on the stage.
The first 5 or 6 songs or so were a showcase of material from other albums and as I was sitting at the back of the crowd most seemed to be sitting watching the performance without too much interaction beyond some laughs at comments about repealing a jazz tax that they had just set – a reference to the bluesy jazz music they had playing in between sets which came as an “additional extra – no charge!”.
The band’s interaction was good humoured enough but I felt slightly like I had just entered a Christian rock band gig with the odd sweary word thrown in for good measure. I had been promised their eponymous debut album and was starting to wonder if I had been successfully trolled by someone on Lastfm who had said they would play the full album.
Then singer, bassist and general all-star of the show, Chis Ballew made an announcement a little something like this: “[How rude of us. We haven't even mentioned our self-titled album. We're gonna play it from start to finish now,]” at which point the first 4-8 rows of the crowd just started pogo-ing and I was compelled to join them from my place at the back of the ABC. Said jumping lasted from the grunge-era fuelled “Kitty” and with its cowbells and backing singer-lead meowing until The Presidents ended the first part of their set. This main part of the gig was accompanied by the a majority of the crowd singing ever word of every song.
After checking a setlist website, I can now confirm that that was precisely 15 songs of middle-aged bouncers with massive smiles on their faces jumping up and down, singing along all the while. Even the quiet songs like “Body”, an ode to a salamander and a frog, had a cat’s choir of fans jumping around on invisible trampolines.
The earlier Christian-rock like banter had slowed down for the most part and the band got on with playing and the odd piece of interaction as the crowd reacted to Presidents’ own-brand cure for the back-to-work Sunday blues. Although appointing stand-out tracks doesn’t really do the Presidents justice – everyone sang and danced to every song – stand-outs included more bouncing from “Lump”, the funk of “Boll Weevil” and of course, the point where I remember my legs giving out – the end of “Peaches”. I’ve since added “Go back to judo and LOSE SOME DAMN WEIGHT!” to my Things To Do List.
I had come and done what I’d come to do before they left the stage before returning for an encore. After getting my fill of their first album performed live, I resumed my place at the back of the crowd again for the encore. They returned to the stage to play material from more of their albums and of that I really enjoyed the jazz factor of the 2nd song from closing, “Froggy” which has since given me reason to go back and listen to their other material again.
I suspect the gig gave a rare but very satisfying Monday morning to those who had to wake up early for work the next day, or in my case the job centre. For me, The Presidents of the USA rewrote the meaning of the word of nostalgia – there wasn’t anything bittersweet about the experience at all. Here’s hoping they come back again soon and this time with some solid support!
I’m lacking any proper footage of the gig so here’s the aforementioned ninja fighting antics of “Peaches”:
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
I could only guess what to expect from this one. I figured lots of chat with the audience and a crowd content on bopping it’s head and waving their arms around like they just don’t care, but all in, before the gig I thought it could’ve went any way really. The closest gig approaching hip-hop that I went to was Jehst, which went terribly as a result of having just come from work on a Friday in my suit. I felt like a fish out of water and was treated as such. Not a good gig that one, so much so I didn’t even bother to review it. I’ll give a quick synopsis though: if you like your bass so loud that it shuts out the artful lyrics the rapper is issuing entirely for a period of about 4 hours until they had to cut him off early because of a club night afterwards and bring it all to the boil with a bunch of neds in gangsta gear, well, Jehst at the Classic Grand was for you.
I had higher hopes for this one though. I knew both artists playing and having discovered them both via their links to Sage Francis. Like Sage, B Dolan takes a cerebral, slam-poet rooted approach and Scroobius Pip has set himself up as a witty experimenter ready to broach new grounds. Both have their own styles of hip-hop, both give insightful commentary on the zeitgeist of our times.
I arrived at the venue with a friend and his friend after we had our own wee pub chat about the zeitgeist of our times but managed to catch what appeared to be the start of Dolan’s set at 8pm.
And what a set it was.
I had only listened to Dolan’s “House of Bees – Vol. 1″ going into the set but because of his delivery I was hanging onto every word, I could still get into the material from his other albums and EPs that I quickly got a hold of after the gig.
This all goes without his showmanship which was without equal. Appearing in his gut-length fake blonde beard, not only did he throw in one-liners and rehearsed jokes he must’ve practiced for the length of his career but managed to interact with the banter the audience threw at him as he fired back responses from the top of his head with equal aplomb which included a section where he had one heckler have a dance off with him while slammed him with his raps. If you aren’t a fan of his music, I would encourage you to go purely on the basis that he’s equal parts comedian and musician and deserves all your attention.
To add to the showmanship, when he dropped material from the one album I did know, it was like an old friend had come back to play for us. Bearing in mind that this is the first time I’d seen him. I was told afterwards that he regulars Glasgow a fair amount and has played 4 times before.
After his set, my one lament was how he didn’t play “One Breath Left”; the Youtube video that got me into his music in the first place. Ever the showman however, he got the last laugh during Pip’s set. He came on about half way through, played the anthem with Pip doing guest vocal duties and then announced he’d be coming back to play in Pivo in March. Yas! I’ll say it once again, Go see him – christ! Come with me!. He stole the whole damn show.
Dolan was going to be a hard act to follow, but I figured Scroobatron the Mighty could manage it. After all he had the entirety of “Angles” full of anthemic tunes and hooks that would’ve had the crowd yelling along as well as his latest album “Distraction Pieces” which offers a whole host of different styles from breathy, slow numbers like ‘Feel It’ with Natasha Fox on vocals or the more jumpy, guitar-led, punky vibe to add to his intimate lyrics on the record.
When Pip came on it was with a half-necked bottle of rosé and glazed eyes. This set the tone for the performance as it was jumpier and had more action to it than I expected from the one half of the duo who produced “Angles” but then he never played any material at all from his time with Dan Le Sac, which was a little disappointing. I knew it was going to be a Pip set but expected at least one or two songs thrown in there.
The crowd got into it though and although the in-session banter wasn’t up to as much as I imagine it would’ve been if he was sober, the music was spot on. Having stepped away from “Angles” and the ‘Thou Shalt Always Kill’ limelight, Scroobius Pip was able to deliver the entirety of “Distraction Pieces” meaning we got treated to some of the more powerful moments from that album that we might miss in future gigs when he will have more material to focus on. Stand out moments included the yell-alongs ‘The Struggle’ and ‘Let’em Come’ and, the quiet, emotional highlight of the set for me, ‘Broken Promise’.
All in, great gig – would gladly see both artists again, individually or together. If you don’t listen to hip-hop or rap like I wasn’t for the longest time, you could do a lot worse than checking both of these guys out whether you’ve been dragged along by a friend or simply checked them out on Youtube.
Some footage:
Also, did I mention they did a Prince cover?
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
How time flies! The last review was way back in October. I’m only to blame for the lack of gigs though. I missed Mogwai in December after not buying a ticket soon enough and in a fantastic leap of stupidity, I turned up at the wrong venue for Explosions In The Sky and then went home disappointed. The show went on without me and for forty days and forty nights did I weep. To be fair (and not beat myself up about it any further than I already have), I had no idea that there were two O2 venues in Glasgow. I still haven’t been to a gig in the Academy but now I know that it actually exists I’m sure it won’t be long before I’m there.
So I figured if one gig could bring back a return to form it would be this one. If you like your music loud, your clothes black and your vowels with 2 dots above them, this gig wasn’t to be missed. From a quick glance at the line up it promised to be a big, dirty metalgasm with Red Fang as the up and coming pretenders to the spiky throne of riffs and of course Mastodon who secured a spot in metal world royalty with their latest album, who gained front cover photo shoots coverage on just about every metal magazine worthy of the name and even managed to make a recent appearance on Jools Holland, of which my only disappointment was their lack of an impromptu piano collaboration with the host.
But wait, what’s this? In between the Raw Metal, I spy with my little eye something worth shelling out 20 quid for. For those of you who know me in person, you’ll know I’ve been a fan of Dillinger Escape Plan ever since I was flabbergasted by the intensity and hilarity of their performance supporting for System of a Down about 10 or so years ago now where they were heckled throughout the the majority of their show. I say majority because I’ll never forget how the lead singer hyped up the crowd for the first two minutes of it. When the crowd were just about ready to explode the band opened up to unfollowable jazz-infused screechings. For about 5 seconds the crowd, who were already jumping and jostling to start a pit, stopped, paused, looked at one another and started hurling abuse and beer in the direction of the stage.
Ah, those were the days. There’s a lot I have to say about Dillinger. One of my favourite moments of metal nostalgia is how I used to introduce them to people by introducing their debut album “Calculating Infinity” by letting my victims hear the first five seconds of every track and then skipping it. Their responses went something like this:
Track 1: *eyes go wide*
Track 2: “OK…”
Track 3: “Dude WTF am I listening to?”
Track 4: “They’re playing a groovy interlude now?!?”
Track 5: *laughter*
Track 6: “DUDE. How can you like this?!?”
Track 7: … *head shaking*
Track 8: “What the hell, another interlude?” *more laughter*
Track 9: …
Track 10: … …
Track 11:”Get the fuck out of my house!”
And yet their live shows, particularly their mosh pits, were ferocious. I’m a fairly big guy, always have been, and have been going to pretty lively gigs for a while now and back in the day I lasted about one song. Bear in mind that the average Dillinger tune used to last about 2 minutes tops.
Needless to say Dillinger aren’t for everyone but they’re the real reason I was even at this gig. Mastodon were just a nice cherry on top to convince me that I really needed to be at the show. When I say be at the show, I mean, not be at another venue wondering why no one is queuing up or why the venue is closed. Le sigh…
Any way, before continuing with the review, I want to give massive kudos out to the crowd. The venue was sold out despite (or perhaps because of?) the conflicting styles of music. The people there were all in good spirit and although the bands had a mostly “let the music speak for itself” stage presence, the crowd were interactive throughout, clapping along, singing, jumping around. This was all helped by the great Barras venue which also speaks for itself as a display piece for worldwide talent coming to Scotland and has done since the 1930s. Extra kūdos to the capacity crowd who showed up nice and early to catch Red Fang take the stage just before 7.30pm. Enjoy the umlaut, you deserve it.
It’s easy to draw clear comparisons to Baroness and their label mates Black Tusk. Red Fang got on stage and put out their sludgy, 70s inspired metal to an audience who were always going to have a lot of respect for what they do. The kind of respect that grabs you with a pint in your hand, your shoulders back, chin forward and makes your head nod in time to the riff as that grimace becomes an upturned smile. If I wasn’t focusing on trying to guess when the drawn-out cymbal crashes were going to fall during the some of the more progressive elements of the performance and I actually took a look around I’m pretty sure that I would’ve seen that smile of respect on their faces too. Captivating. Chunky. Red Fang, the next Mastodon?
Now for the part of the show where a section of more traditional metallers in the crowd would endure silently or with grudging applause. Clearly, the Dillinger Escape Plan have come a long way from that first booing they received ten years ago or so when they first arrived on Scotland’s shores.
All those years of jumping into crowds, having fist fights over microphones and taking shits on stage to throw into the crowd have taken their toll on the intensity of the band as well as their line-up. As a result, they played mostly newer, less intense material. I came to see Dillinger for the spectacle of their show but after having seen them 3 times already, on this occasion I was greeted by a different kind of surrealism.
I started at the back of the crowd where I saw kids with their parents headbanging to them. Kids headbanging at a Dillinger gig. Let me show you what’s wrong with that statement. In 2003 they were this:
Nice little face punch at 1 minute 19 there.
More than a little freaked out by the prospect of 10 year olds raised on Dillinger, I jumped into the pit which I actually survived for more than a minute of this time. Actually I spent the rest of the performance there. Fan-dabi-dozy.
As expected, the pit was pretty frantic particularly with lead singer Greg Puciato jumping in from time to time to keep it going. What was also suprising was a strong contingent of the crowd singing along with the majority of his screams where previously people would just go batshit nuts in there. You also have to consider the amount of lyric sheet reading that went on to learn those songs.
This was a new Dillinger Escape Plan – for better or for worse I’m not sure but I’ll be at their next gig whenever that might be. Just to double check of course.
After that performance, Mastodon almost seemed like an afterthought. Not to the majority of the crowd though.
As they opened up with two big tunes from their latest album the packed-out crowd of 2000 or so felt more like a stadium of people jumping and clapping in unison. From the back of the ballroom you could see waves of people head banging in time, singing along to material from the their latest album like it was their first.
When material from “Leviathan” followed on I realised that there was not one song of Mastodon’s that wasn’t instantly recognisable. They have released album after album of solid content for years now and from the crowd you could see the truth of that. The band take massive crowd pleasing riffs and throw in extremely technical moments to ensure that they aren’t just another wash-rinse-repeat, crowd-pleasing festival band.
Unfortunately I had to leave the gig at 10.30pm to catch the train home so I missed about 30 minutes of their performance but having seen what I had, I was pretty damn satisfied. As a side note, if anyone can fill in any highlights of what happened towards the end of Mastodon’s gig I would really appreciate it
In summary, I can’t admit to being a massive Mastodon fan but as my girlfriend might say, I wouldn’t kick them out of bed for having cold feet. I hope they continue to put out shit-hot material as they have done throughout their career and inspire others to take a more technical approach to metal that goes beyond the simple big riff approach a lot of their contemporaries have stuck with.
As someone who likes intimate, smaller gigs, I don’t find myself saying this often but I’d really like to see the band perform at a larger venue. Having said that, and as I hinted at above, I think they’ll need to up their stage presence before playing larger venues without the help of established bands like Dillinger Escape Plan to put bums on seats. How they do that without sacrificing the technical musicianship they put into their music, I don’t know. If it came down to sacrificing one or the other, clearly, for Mastodon any how, the music comes before the spectacle.
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
After missing out on Envy last time, I was determined to have that evasive gig with them where they climactically threw themselves and their instruments into the crowd of adoring fans. A month of minor crappy incidents involving public transport and pent up frustration had me fired up for it too.
And with that feeling we were off to a good start as the guitar/drum duo of Bronto Skylift canoodled onto the stage until they had the crowd’s attention. Moments into their set I thought that we’d just discovered a Scottish Lightning Bolt. From their first awkward moments upon arrival out of the blue they shot, so in ways we had.
It didn’t take me long to notice the drummers broken high-hat after he pounded the drums like a professional sprinter being chased by wolves to the sound of the guitarists’ almost Take A Worm For a Walk Week-like jilted rhythms. Mix this with shifting rhythm changes and vocals that had a kind of awkward call-and-response pop feel to them and you had what could’ve been a pretty eclectic pit, and yet it didn’t occur. Perhaps this was because they were in the support slot and folks were saving themselves, or perhaps people just weren’t familiar enough with their music to move. Fair enough.
After snaffling up their album like penny sweets, the more I listen to Bronto Skylift, the more I wish they had a bassist. I can’t shake the feeling that Bronto’s heavy moments wanted something deep behind them for people to throw themselves around to and the poppier call and response moments could have done with some gonzo or funk bass to match the hack and slash groove of the guitar. Regardless, they’d make a great night in the 13th Note or King Tuts with like-minded friends. For me, they’ll be one to watch and I hope to see them live again soon. Not sure they were right for the Envy crowd mind you…
After all, if the fans had the dedication to come see a band on a Monday night who traveled half way around the world to play for them, you’d think they might feel obliged to move or clap along to them. Surely they wouldn’t treat them with the same lack of response as a local band with an experimental style they might not of heard of? Surely they wouldn’t treat them that way…? Envy of all bands?
Although March feels like a distant memory now, the large sweeps and climaxes brought me back to that night I caught my first live taste of the Envy experience. If that was all I’d enjoyed about Envy I would probably be writing a similar review to the Mono one a while back – pretty to listen to but not an exciting live experience.
Envy couldn’t have been further from this. Although they share elements of what Mono offer – the beautiful sweeping almost orchestral parts – they back this up with massive builds that make you just want to throw yourself around all the more when they explode into a combination of riffs and rhythms that then settle into beautiful serenades like no other band I know of is really offering right now. I tried to prepare myself with some of their releases before the gig but the live experience just blew it all away. I find myself now trying to recapture the sound with “Insomniac Doze”.
So how did the Monday-night hangover of a crowd take this opportunity? With folded arms and hands in pockets. My issue with this performance wasn’t the band at all but the lifeless crowd.
But don’t get me wrong. I don’t expect everyone to get into a performance or jump around on a Monday night. Christ, I don’t even expect a majority of them to do so. I did however, expect that there would be a small group of people up the front or in the middle of the venue at least willing to jump up and down or clap along – excited just to be there. At one point I was hoping just for other people besides my musical compadre-in-arms to move their heads even.
At the end of the gig the band were selling merch. Earlier on, I tried to strike up conversation with the lead singer, who suprised me with his fluent English. Afterward the gig I just wanted to bow low and apologise to him and his band for coming all the way out here to play for us.
“Please come back! We won’t be shit next time!”
They didn’t give us an encore, and we didn’t deserve it. Sometimes I naively think that bands read reviews and blogs like this and react. If so:
Sukottorando mo kuru onegaishitashimasu Envy-sama! Moushiwake arimasen!
The whole experience, although a great performance, left me green for those 300 or so people who got into that shed over half a year ago back in Tokyo…
Fuck!
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
Much like this very late review, I arrived late to the gig and missed The Bronx supporting themselves as Mariachi El Bronx.
As for The Bronx headling the gig as The Bronx, they say pictures speak a thousand words, so here are two of my hat I wore taken after the gig:
Note the lack of a second strap to hold it together after it was torn off my head, the large tear at the front and mud stains all over. Bear in mind this hat was one that was with me during the Sendai Earthquake but simply could not withstand the intensity of The Bronx. I was lucky as my glasses came off at one point too but I managed to pick them up mostly unscathed.
That’s all your getting today.
Well ok, you can have 1 minute 17 seconds more:
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
This one is a little late as I’m still recovering from my birthday week festivities and the phlegm and sickness that followed after it. This review comes with a second disclaimer – I’m a complete and utter Glassjaw fan boy. If you’re looking for an unbiased review, I suggest that you look elsewhere.
So… 11 years in the making to see my favourite band of all time. They’ve been amazing since I first heard their explosive introductory track ‘Pretty Lush’ from a Kerrang CD back in the 90s. I’ve missed every opportunity to see Glassjaw since they first hit the UK back in 2000 when they came over with Deftones and Soulfly. Like Earthtone9, I thought I had missed my last chance to dance when they split in 2004, only for them to leave tantalising hints of their reformation over the following 4 years.
My reason for sticking with Glassjaw throughout my life could have been because of those hints at reformation and the hope for a follow up of the quality music their fans have come to expect of them. However I like to think I stuck with them because of their ability to move and grow up with their fans. If their first album represented teenage anger and frustration, their second a form of regret and yet more frustration that coincided with my university years then their latest amazing material is where I am now – growing and accepting previous frustrations and moving forward to new successes. For them to visit Scotland on my birthday and in my hometown felt fated.
Better yet when an old acquaintance in the form of Suicoperro, whom I’d first heard in my university days when I discovered Biffy Clyro, where announced to play as support. I’d never been to see them as I only liked a few of their stand out tracks from their album ‘Random Acts of Intimacy’ but they were the perfect addition for me as an opening act.
In this faculty, Sucioperro played material I had never heard before, presumably from their latest album that I imagine they were promoting. Their material had a great pounding bass sound and a rawness I remember from ‘The Vertigo of Bliss’ when Biffy were still rough around the edges and experimental. I want to stop comparing Sucioperro to their Scottish compatriots but even as someone who appreciates their work I struggle. However, I’ll definitely be getting the rest of their albums and heading along to their next gig the first opportunity I get.
If that weren’t enough, up-and-comers Rolo Tomassi joined the fray to give us a fresh new sound – one I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy from just watching Youtube excerpts of them. Live however, they were a different experience altogether. I don’t think I’ve ever been so awed and bemused all at the same time as I was three songs into their set. (EDIT: Which turned out to be this track – the breakdown… holy fuck! WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN)
Their music was incredibly technical and at points reminded me of early prog. Later on, their setlist became increasingly more hardcore oriented with a harsher rawer sound. If I had to describe them I’d say, put Rush, Dillinger Escape Plan and The Mars Volta in a raunchy hotel room and imagine what kind of offspring that union would bring. For listeners of Iwrestledabearonce and HORSE The Band.
If you see them in the future try not to get caught out by the by the one-two sucker punch of vocalist Eva Spence’s screaming followed up quickly by her quiet, polite thanks at the end of each song. Indeed I ROFL’d. Verily.
Many of you who know me have seen me in Glassjaw clothes, so naturally I looked forward to buying up some of their merch – a new wardrobe actually. The added draw to this is that I wanted to pick up their free Coloring Book EP distributed only at gigs. Since their merch was absent at the start of the gig, throughout the support I kept checking back to see if the band had set up their merch yet alongside the two support acts’ material but was left sorely disappointed. No explanation has been offered as to why there was no merchandise. Some theories include shipping issues or the entire stock being sent Reading and Leeds. Either way, not the best.
And yet, it was a minor flaw – well, considering the show they put on. There are setlists out there if you want to find them and I could write up a bunch of adjectives, similes and metaphors to explain how great the gig was but there’s no need really. If you’ve experienced a Glassjaw set before, then you have and you’ll know the feeling of greatness in your midst. You won’t wonder as you watch their recorded live performances online at how large sections of the crowd can sing along to every word to every song and keep jumping around to frontman Daryl Palumbo’s stage antics. You won’t have to extract meaning from alternate lyric lists around the net because you experienced the meaning of the words yourself. You won’t have to question whether or not you would be in the middle of the pit with the rest of the crowd or if you’d be on the side line or sitting on your ass at the back of the venue. You’d be there experiencing what makes them great.
If you haven’t seen them yet, hopefully you won’ t have to wait 11 years, but if you do like I did, you’ll know it was worth it.
The only material of the gig I could find was of Sucioperro so have some mixed recent live performances for Rolo Tomassi and Glassjaw:
And one from Reading and Leeds since they stole all our fucking merch!
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band in question.
To be honest, I’ve very little to say about this gig, because:
1. I didn’t pay attention to the support act, RM Hubbard. I’m sure he was great, just folk/flamenco/country/accoustic isn’t my thing and I didn’t bother listening to him.
2. Headliners, Godspeed, played almost exactly the same set with exactly the same atmospheric videos to the exactly the same exacting high standards as they did last time I saw them.
One noteworthy mention though, is the organisation of the gig.
When everything goes smoothly for organising a gig, how a gig is organised really ought to be forgetable as a vehicle to the spectacle of the bands on show. Not entirely so here.
Those who attended the gig know that it was originally set for the Barrowlands, arguably Glasgow’s best music venue, as was the case the last time Godspeed played Glasgow back around Christmas time 2010. However, instead of sticking to such a great venue, lack of demand meant Godspeed played a smaller more accoustically challenged location. So if Godspeed are regularly playing blinders, why the lack of demand?
From what I can tell, the reasoning for the low turnout was down to a combination of factors.
Firstly, in December, organisers took a very long time to get tickets out to fans. This left fans some what apprehensive if they were going to receive tickets they book months in advance but had no word of until 2 weeks before the event. This time around a similar issue occurred leaving fans with some anxiety.
Second up, there were a lot of stories of fans not being able to make the trip into Glasgow due to a complete transport shutdown caused by bad weather. Most of the tickets were not refunded since fans couldn’t in to see the show leaving them reluctant to shell out more cash; once bitten, twice as shy.
Finally, December was Godspeed’s return from a long-term indefinite hiatus, and like an enigmatic messiah in the mist, fans flocked to the band for the December show – though fans disappointingly didn’t follow this up for the show tonight, suggesting that perhaps the band need to put out some new material before enticing giggers to be convinced to see them again. At least that’ll be my alibi for not seeing them again if they come to Scotland again any time soon.
Well, that and I really want to see them at the Barras next time – seriously, no excuses – The Arches sound is awful and the more I go there the more frustrated I get with it.
Having said all that, these things pale in comparison to the quality musicianship of the band and shouldn’t have been factors for what was essentially a great show.
P.S. To the guy I saw in the green and white Glassjaw tee tonight – you sir, have good taste. I regret not high-fiving you on the spot.
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band.
Before I do anything, these:
Now that’s out of the way, I went to this gig to see the Gwar spectacle. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some of their songs too – “Meat Sandwich”, “Penguin Attack” and “Hate Love Songs” are all top notch, but mostly I went to get covered in fake blood and have a good time.
Clutch were a great added bonus too. I’m not a Clutch fan but I’d heard of them and their country infused metal before. My only concern was that as a joint headliner, and as indicated by some of their fans on Lastfm, the Clutch crowd would leave the crowd bear after their show with only few people staying for Gwar.
My concerns increased when I arrived at the venue at 7.15pm and the place was empty. An hour and 45 minutes later of standing around and the room filling up, Clutch took the stage. One of these days I’ll go to a gig and not be left standing around with my hands in my pockets waiting for music. Complaints aside, I can see why the organisers had the doors open 2 hours before the first act considering that both headliners brought different crowds, and leaving this gap ensured that the Gwar crowd would show up to see Clutch. Unfortunately this left both bands with only about an hour and fifteen minutes each to play… and me standing around like Nigel-no-pals. Fuckers.
I stood near the back to get a good idea of Clutch and take them in. With hindsight there was no real need; what the band did was straightforward enough – bang out good tunes. The band were tight and produced some tasty guitar and drum solos throughout and the crowd lapped it up. I could try to pick holes in the performance and say that they were so tight that it left little room for creative solo-ing in what I imagined was a live sound that sounded exactly as it was captured on record, but to be honest, there’s no need; Clutch were and are great at what they do and I imagine will be everytime they take to the stage. A solid no gimmicks, 4 out of 5, 8 out of 10 performance, which would no doubt be higher if I really appreciated the country stylings of their music. Bish-bash-bosh, good job, nice show.
From a gimmick-less band to one that has made its career by shamelessly reveling in camp, the co-headliners couldn’t have been more different. A managed to make my way to the front of the gig after the Clutch fans piled out to the bar into a group of really enthusiastic young Gwar fans, one spotting my the GJ logo on my sweater and brofisting me out of Glassjaw respect. Roll on Glassjaw and my 28th birthday!
Meanwhile, I kept looking up to see if the rumours were true and whether or not there would be a large container of fake blood or gunge dropped onto us from above. Unfortunately no such container presented itself. However, soon afterwards roadies started taping plastic bin liner over the speakers, foreshadowing the messy show to come. If this wasn’t enough to send the front rows into further frenzy, security staff and camera men started putting on goggles and plastic ponchos. Chants for Gwar went up and some kids behind me were rough-housing before the show even started. This was gonna be good.
As the band arrived on stage a helper slave, gimped up in a mask and loincloth, tore something – a fake dead dog, the arm off one of the band’s antagonists, another slave – I can’t remember which – but it shot fake blood into the audience and from that point on it had truly begun. Between and during most songs more fake blood was – sometimes literally! – pissed onto the crowd.
Beyond the messy fun, the spectacle of seeing 5 men dressed in a combination of bondage gear and LARP kit playing speed metal/punk was ridiculous enough and if I hadn’t seen The Dwarves before I would’ve been less inured to it. As a result I want to say the gig was wholeheartedly awesome, and it was but I would have liked to have heard some of their bigger songs that I mentioned above. Had they played their more recognisable music I would be more likely to have come away from the experience wanting to listen to a whole lot more of their music.
In spite of that I would gladly go see them again and recommend anyone to witness the spectacle. However, the last time they came here was 17 years ago. If you missed them, fingers crossed they’ll come back soon enough for you to get covered in blood shot from the Queen’s tits, Lady Gaga’s fecal matter or even shot in the mouth by blood piss from an invincible alien. Speaking of which, here’s some footage of that…
… And some simulated necrophiliac bestiality
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band.
I have a confession to make: I went to this gig on the back of one song.
Yeah I know, I shouldn’t be such a single whore and see bands after hearing one of their ditties but I couldn’t help it – it was on my MP3 on repeat for weeks. I mean listen to it!
Gorgeous.
So after realising I’d have to hear a set worth of their music I got their other albums and listened like a student studies before exams. Which was to say not that much. However, what I did hear I enjoyed. Standouts on my self-induced crash course included “Yearning” from You Are There and the first two tracks from Under The Pipal Tree.
As a result of this, I honestly didn’t expect too much from Mono and mostly wanted to kick back and relax and feed my growing computerised Bloodbowl addiction in the comfort of my own home.
So I left my house to arrive at the venue for 7.30pm when doors opened. There was a Buckcherry gig on in the main part of the Arches where I saw Battles earlier in the week and was consequently directed around to the super secret second venue area of the Arches that I didn’t know existed only to be told the doors were at 8 despite the ticket stating 7.30pm. Le sigh…
However this did give me the opportunity to look at Tickets Scotland and see what other gigs were on. Lo and behold what did I discover but Glassjaw playing. On my birthday.
My face when I realised this:
After that splendid revelation. I dossed around some more and then arrived at the venue to rendezvous with my rendezvous from Battles.
Then the support act, Smoke Jaguar, hit us. The horror…
Two guitarists arrived on stage and started playing feedback on their guitar. I got excited at the prospect of a drone metal or drone rock band a la Sunn O))) or Boris on the stage before us and awaited the arrival of a drummer, which was set up and waiting with a large gong behind it.
Now you must understand that the aforementioned bands make thirty minute songs comprised of feedback work since they are able to set mood, often with manageable guitar work you can follow and drums pacing the song out that often take you to a certain place or can put you into a certain mood, sometimes a trance-like state and when done well, you know you’ve had some kind of experience in just listening.
Smoke Jaguar were an experience all right but one I’d like to forget. No drummer arrived. The first feedbacker was using an echoing, resonating pedal whereas the second was creating a really painful screeching above it. Foolishly I stood there for ten minutes thinking it would get better, hoping it would get better, trying to be the considerate listener who knew he’d have to review this steaming pile of shit before me.
Then I hit the bar, which unfortunately in this case, was in the same brick-walled tunnel The Arches took their namesake from.
My face when I realised this:
At the bar I watched the crowd reaction to the band which was probably the most entertaining thing about the whole performance. For approximately ten minutes after I left for the bar they sat and watched – a lot more patient than I was.
Meanwhile the bar staff, who already had their earplugs in, showed clear contempt for the band by shaking their head and apologising to customers whom they couldn’t hear over the undulating screeching which had been going for around twenty minutes at this point.
Then a funny thing happened. Members of the crowd started talking to one another. They tried to ignore the noise and get on with conversation, which, from what I could tell from their body language, was mostly mocking the two guitarists, who spent the majority of the set gyrating their guitars into speakers whilst facing away from the crowd.
After about ten minutes of that boos eventually went up. To their credit, this didn’t stop Smoke Jaguar, but when they did mocking cries of “play one more” went up. One of the guitarists seemed furious. Better him than me.
After this disappointment Mono showed up to save the day, which they did, but in my opinion I’m afraid they didn’t get the girl too. As expected the foursome powered out climactic, sweeping music from a back catalogue of songs I only had a vague awareness of as I only recognised a couple of the songs.
Unlike Explosions in the Sky last month, Mono didn’t send shivers up my spine or take me some place else. They played gorgeous music that sometimes reminded me of different situations. “Yearning” live reminded me of the recent earthquake scenes and I couldn’t help but feel that the climactic sonic onslaught and the slow extinguishment of sound towards of the end of the song was a heartbeat caught in the tsunami.
And that’s where Mono’s power lies as a band. Their songs can take on different meanings to different people. But ultimately, I could’ve felt that way listening to them on the bus, the train, on a rainy day or even feeding my growing computerised Bloodbowl addiction in the comfort of my own home.
And they didn’t even play “Error #9″. If I see them again, it’ll be as support for another group or as part of a festival line-up.
EDIT: I forgot to mention the main benefit of having seen Mono live and that was watching the twin guitar work in action. Some bands, like the Rolling Stones, Toe and early Glassjaw display an intricate twin guitar work that you can hear right from the CD. However, I never picked up on it so much and felt the production of the work between the two guitars was a little understated in Mono’s case to form a sound that made them come across like they were just one guitar. Hearing the two distinct guitars working away in harmony gave them part of that powerful sound live I mentioned above.
Disclaimer: As with all my music reviews, this is a blow-by-blow account taken from my own perspective and written mostly for myself as a memory aid. I’m not always an expert on the band.
I first heard Battles at a time when I was mostly focused on heavier, edgier music after being introduced to them by a friend. It was fitting then that we attended The Arches on the first gig after the release of their 2nd album “Gloss Drop”.
It seemed that this would be an evening of firsts as this was the first time I’d ever been to The Arches, which I had heard a lot about. I knew it was a dance venue, chosen because of its atmospheric vibe since the venue is essentially a network of old tunnels under Glasgow Central train station. I had heard that sometimes you could hear trains rumbling overhead while waiting on the musicians to play.
In some regards, the venue lived up to the hype. Throughout the gig I was awed by the excellent lighting and secretive feel of being cloistered together and listening to experimental bands in what felt like an underground bomb-shelter or perhaps more appropriately an 8 year old’s secret club hideaway. However, due to the nature of being in a box of brick and mortar, the venue’s accoustics suffered from an echoing around the room and left me unable to hear a lot of the detail in the music, especially for later tracks after I was exposed to the proximity of the speakers. I would later see Mono in the same venue later in the week which would also have the same atmosphere and sound issues.
Without any hype of their own, it was Thank You who took to the stage as the solitary support act of the evening and immediately you could see why they were chosen to support the innovative headliners. They brought a bouncy and distinctive sound similar to Battles in their innovation. While the majority of the band built up a sound that changed and shifted gradually their drummer maintained the movement of the music, looking lively behind the drum kit and speeding the pace of the music up for the most part. His style was energetic enough for my friend to remark on his “frogs legs” as he pogo’d on the pedal.
Signifying Battles arrival was an army of instruments, including but not limited to 2 guitars, 2 keyboards, 2 man-sized TV screens, a bass guitar, a minimal looking drumkit with one very, very tall high-hat, sleigh bells, countless pedals, a sampling deck and a seperate cowbell. If I didn’t know the band about to play I would have thought at least five members were about to take to the already cramped looking stage.
One by one the trio stepped up onto the platform. I was at the front of the crowd and noticed the band make their arrivals from behind a speaker but if I wasn’t I would have thought they had stepped out from the crowd itself – such was the proximity of the stage.
As they did so, they built up a sound with each instrument – sleigh bells first followed by sampling, along with a beat, a touch of guitar to be followed by a smattering of a second guitar for the drummer to put down the sleigh bells and take his place behind the kit… and so on. I knew Battles’ sound was built up from different noises, almost like techno or dubstep of a less climactic nature but having seen them live now, I would say it’s more like the formation of a Jackson Pollock painting.
Where Pollock would smatter whatever he felt was necessary in the painting, using different means to different ends to create the whole scape from whatever angle he wanted to view it from, Battles would use whatever instrument was necessary for the sound they wanted to create. Moreover, the music was a fluid, living creature.
You could see this in how the band would interact with one another. If a sound wasn’t necessary for the build up, perhaps one band member would hold up a hand as a cue for the drummer to change something in the beat or the guitarist would stop playing and when ready to come back into the song he would be playing a different riff or instrument altogether. I thought at first that perhaps the band weren’t as tight, particularly when I noticed the drummer straining at points, powering out a blast of the high-hat as if his life depended on it. It would’ve been understandable if they weren’t as tight as as they could’ve been after losing one of their members and having only just released “Gloss Drop”, which they kept their set list to rather than playing from earlier releases, but then I realised that they were experimenting on stage with the build up. In between songs they would leave a sample looping over and over and pick up a different instrument and attack it from another angle. It was quite exciting because you weren’t sure where they were always going, until somehow the big climactic beat had crept up on you and everyone behind you was jumping.
I didn’t see much of the crowd as they were all behind me but hearing their support for the band’s direction, it was clear they were enjoying it. After their set a chant for an encore went up which was followed by their arrival and another chant of something like “Who needs you [previous singer]!”. At this stage in the gig I actually couldn’t make out what people were shouting due the mish-mash of noise in my ears caused by speaker proximity and venue accoustics.
My friend told me that at one point Battles were unlikely to bounce back after they created a full second album worth of material which they then scrapped entirely in favour of what has now become, in their own words, “a bouncing baby, named Gloss Drop”. If they are the parents we are the extended family, waiting to see what it will become and the potential it holds.
