Bob Mould’s Silver Age album, by rights, should have been in my Top 20 of 2012. Having unfortunately not managed to hear it until February 2013 it missed out. As returns to form go though you’d be hard pressed to find a better example within the last 18 months. Tonight therefore promised to be somewhat special.
‘Minimalist’ is a word which you can frequently apply to Suuns’ recorded output. Live, on the other hand the adjective makes no sense whatsoever. Any attempts to call this music minimalist get blasted away by the force of the band’s arrangements, turning elongated jams of eerie repetition into increasingly powerful sound. The elements of their style which give rise to this description remain fully intact, but empowered by the muscle, noise, and sheer volume of their live set up, it still feels suitable to call their music ‘patient’, ‘assured’ or ‘careful’, but never minimalist.
If you too felt that Mumps. Etc. didn’t set the critical hype machine ablaze to the same degree as Why?'s 2008 opus Alopecia, tonight’s feverish show in London wouldn’t betray it. People here tonight adore the material, and inhabit every cloying syllable – throwing themselves behind each song with full commitment; even the wintery, songwriter turns from the awkwardly placed Eskimo Snow receive the full-blooded sing-along treatment.
From the opening drum beat and resonating bass note, it is clear that rather than a Haxan Cloak ‘gig’ this is more of a Haxan Cloak seance. Behind Bobby Krlic, who stands at a laptop wreathed in shadow, is projected a series of images - flashes of black and white and repeated refrains hinting towards the subject matter of new album, Excavation. A camera tracks forward through large ornate gates, a rolling bed of fire, layers of rock, layers of hell. And even stranger, a loop of a duck swooping down to land on water. It is the image of the duck that is most haunting. As these images flash up on the projector, the synth and the sampler rattle around looping screams, feedback, muttering - echoes of life mixed into noises of death.
Prior to tonight's gig we were hot with anticipation for the thrilling atmosphere that was sure to ensue but much to our disappointment, walking into the empty room as the music begins does nothing but extinguish this flame. Although a small audience is to be expected for a support act, this is a whole new level where I can literally see no one else in the room bar the performers. Onstage are DJ duo Easily Dunn and Dinch and despite dwelling within a dead atmosphere the music being played is actually rather enjoyable. Their collection of music features a funky vibe that has the entire room moving (just us then ...) and one particular remix of a Jackson 5 song brings on a smile. Alas, It isn't long before the repetitive and relentless bombardment of bass music - combined with a lack of any real performance element – soon become tiresome to listen to.
Depending on the genre of music, the percentage of the audience that has attended a cider festival increases. Your standard pop concert for example, is fairly low. Beth Orton’s doing a tour? It’s perhaps a bit higher. Wolf People? It’s 100%. One hundred percent. One assumes psych-halflings, Wolf People spent their teenage years in their rooms listening to Zeppelin and Captain Beefheart, before emerging blinking into the sunlight three years ago and producing 2010’s most barn-storming album of prog. Steeple, Tidings and now new album, Fain all tap into a psych/folk musical tradition normally reserved for men of a more advanced age*, and their ninety minute set at the Sebright Arms contains all the prog greats of days gone by - dueling banjos, finger-tapping, a man with a band t-shirt, some stomp-pedal (though a lamentable absence of prog-flute – alas, there is rarely space for a prog-flautist on tour).
