As I've written on the blog before, metal (largely black metal) isn't
my bag. In many ways it’s my own version of reggae or country; two genres
people commonly dismiss as sounding "samey." It's not a problem with
black metal being typically violent music, Death
Grips are one of my favorite bands, but how it’s constructed. To
undiscerning metal ears, which mine unquestionably are, one ear-piercing howl
or heart palpitating blastbeat is indistinguishable from another. Words are
largely unrecognizable and to someone who places a premium on lyrics, that’s
incredibly frustrating. So instead of pushing through to the other side of the
suffocating music, I turn off because there's nothing for me to cling to.
All of that said, San Francisco black metal/post-rock/shoegaze experimenters
Deafheaven's set to a small, but intimate crowd at Lawrence's Granada Theater
was a revelation. I was drawn entirely to the show by their 2013 record Sunbather,
which was one of my
10 favorite albums of last year and sat at number one on aggregating site Metacritic's 2013
list. It's a sublime album, sui generis in construction but eerily
familiar. Meandering, Modest Mouse like guitar lines will explode into power
soloing. Pianos dawdle for a spell then disappear into a fog of galloping bass
and flailing percussion. George Clarke's distanced, often heartbreaking envy of
those with money is delivered in a banshee wail. Sunbather doesn't so
much rewrite the rules of what black metal can be, it throws the book into a
shredder then sets the scraps on fire.
And fortunately for me and those fervent metal heads in attendance, the
quintet's main-set drew entirely from the game-changing release. "Dream
House"'s heavily arpeggiated chords had Clarke
"screaming" in a near whisper as he ruminated on "sober
restlessness." They were less the exhortations of a black metal singer and
closer to a cat's inaudible death screeches. Sunbather's title track saw the morbidly dressed frontman flapping across the
stage as the two guitar attack crushed the bones of the common man "down
to yellow." For captaining such chaos, Clarke has a remarkable stage
presence. His hands would curl up in a manner reminiscent of Magneto's flight
routine and command the small crowd to rival his screams. There a certain
cultishness to it, robotically disciplined but remarkably passionate.
The band's bloodstained passion dripped continuously
throughout the 60-plus minute set. You'd have to have passion to play songs
that stretch to 8 or 9 minutes at a time. And any time their love of
"violence" seemed unable to carry them over another wall of noise, Sunbather's interstitial passages of flanging guitar arrived on time. They
weren't there simply as a breather though. Each My Bloody Valentine inspired
echo was meant as a contrast; a sign that any beauty we eek out of our
"short" lives is impossible without the occasional brutality.
I brought a friend of mine to the show who is also
indifferent to more violent strands of heavy metal. Zach had largely come to
see Arkansas doom metal band Pallbearer, whose set was riff manna from heaven
to a starving crowd. They debuted two new tracks from their highly anticipated
album Foundations
of Burden, which figures to be one of metal's most
important releases in 2014. Immediately after their set we could only say how
"rad" it was. When the entire grueling night ended, he didn't have
the same things to say about Deafheaven, but there was admittance to how
powerful they were live. More than any other descriptor, that might be the most
apt. Deafheaven’s a powerful band and they masterfully wield that power.
Setlist:
1. "Dream House"
2. "Irresistible"
3. "Sunbather"
4. "Please Remember"
5. "Vertigo"
6. "Windows"
7. "The Pecan Tree"
Encore:
8. "Unrequited"
(Original review posted for Demencha Magazine)
"I think we have a couple
of things in common," Annie Clark (better known as the seismic force
behind St. Vincent) chirped to a crowd at Lawrence's Liberty Hall last night.
Having ravaged her voice during the prior song "Cruel"
to capture the abandonment of "so they took you and they left you,"
the light banter was a welcome break. But the opening up took a sharp 45 degree
turn, as each shared experience Clark listed became more and more specific. By
the time her final commonality came up, it was clear Clark was talking about
herself. Even in opening up, Clark couldn't help but obfuscate.
Though that lesson should've
been clear from the first wobbly beat of opener "Rattlesnake".
Rather than step straight to the microphone Clark mechanically danced in place,
relishing every sharp herk and jerk. When her voice does eventually sound its
sullen and confused; wondering aloud "am I the only one in the only
world?" Instead of tackling the question head on, Clark opted to run away
on the back of a frenetic, gut busting guitar solo. Clark's decision to let her
guitar do the talking became a common occurrence on the night. When she found
herself being carried off by "Surgeon"'s electronically
treated strings to an indignant silence from a former lover, she abolished that
silence with a solo where hammered-on notes recalled a short-circuit. "Birth in
Reverse" staved off the aforementioned "Cruel"'s malevolent
tone with a guitar strut. Before anyone could overstay their welcome in Clark's
"cosmic eternal party line" she was shooing them away with electronic
histrionics.
And if Clark's fretwork failed
to keep the wolves at bay, her physical acrobats were more than up to the task.
While Clark's guitar prowess deserves to be
celebrated, her commanding stage-presence is equally laudable. In the King
Crimson meets Timbaland groove of "Digital
Witness" she adroitly conveyed the zombie-ism of the Social Media age
with her own disaffected "yahs." Each time a dead-eyed utterance
spilled out, you could hear a mouse clicking to another profile. St.
Vincent standout "I Prefer
Your Love"'s warm synth swoons gave Clark a bed to lie down upon.
Sprawling out across the on-stage staircase, Clark became a 40s lounge singer,
albeit one well-versed in futurism and sorcery.
Such sorcery was in full-effect
for "Every Tear
Disappears", which had Clark contorting to right angles to deliver the
sagely advice "a smile is more than showing teeth." When she openly
interrogated "what about the pain?" you felt it yourself.
"Prince Johnny"'s need to love yourself before you can love another
seemed untenable as Clark collapsed to the floor and began to writhe around
like Samara from The Ring. Clark previously commented on the song
saying, ""Prince Johnny" is about a mixture of compassion and
hopelessness that you feel for a friend who’s being very self-destructive, but
you also know that you can’t save them, but you can’t cast any judgment because
you’re equally self-destructive," and that desperation was clear with
every wriggle. Finally, the schizoid vocals of "Bring Me
Your Loves" were an ideal companion to Clark's frantic mind that was
hung up on a former bf's belittlement. To exercise those relationship demons,
she thrashed about the stage once more though it all felt in vein by the time
the stage went dark. Physical aggression can't cure mental anguish.
However, anguish is best captured with little to no frill. Strange
Mercy's agonizing title-track delivered a
masterclass in stunning minimalism. Perched atop her digital ziggurat, Clark
had only her guitar and a solitary spotlight to accompany her. There was no
need for flailing guitar chords or twisting movements to highlight the
desperation of telling someone "when you see me, wait." The crowd was
silent as Clark snuck out to be with the lost boys she was chasing. For all of
her obfuscation, Clark arrived at a desire we can all relate to: the desire to
transcend your surroundings, to escape.
Setlist:
1. "Rattlesnake"
2. "Digital Witness"
3. "Cruel"
4. "Birth in Reverse"
5. "Regret"
6. "Laughing with a Mouth of Blood"
7. "I Prefer Your Love"
8. "Pieta"
9. "Every Tear Disappears"
10. "Surgeon"
11. "Cheerleader"
12. "Prince Johnny"
13. "Year of the Tiger"
14. "Marrow"
15. "Huey Newton"
16. "Bring Me Your Loves"
17. "Northern Lights"
18. "Krokodil"
Encore:
19. "Strange Mercy"
20. "Your Lips Are Red"
(Photo April Fleming/The Pitch)
Neko Case's latest album The
Worse Things Get The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More
I Love You found the "part-time" New Pornographers member
doggedly chasing her muse to all four corners, searching for: love, confidence,
and parental guidance. Opening with penultimate The Worse Things Get...
track "Where Did I
Leave That Fire" was an act of supreme confidence, a bellowing
submarine sound issued a false-start to an audience that was ready to run.
Follow-up "This Tornado Loves You" with John Rauhouse's consciously
strummed banjo allowed Case the chance for her first vocal volleys. Her voice
can be a rafter shaking entity and when it broke lose I half expected her band
to stop dead in their tracks.
The band did steady for Fox
Confessor Brings the Flood cut "Lion's Jaws",
slipping into slow dance territory. Here Case's sighing incantations
sound-tracked another turn, as the clock ticked closer to midnight. "Teenage Feeling"
stole further into the past, transported by Rauhouse's rollicking banjo and
Case's yearning voice. The song was one of the night’s many fighters, refusing
to throw in the towel and firmly committed to "holding on to that teenage
feeling."
2000's "Set Out Running"
possesses a similar longing to shake off the weight of the past and start anew.
"I just can't shake this feeling that I'm nothing in your eyes" Case
sang from the precipice, pushed to the edge by twanging guitar and mourning pedal
steel. Soon only her desolate yawp remained, echoing out of every dark cavern.
Muted trombone in "Calling
Cards" cast a ghostly pallor, giving the final shot "I’ve got
calling cards from twenty years ago" a greater wallop than the studio
version could ever pack.
The entire night wasn't a
funeral procession however. Case and vocal-collaborator/comedic foil Kelly
Hogan kept up an impeccable rapport that deterred some of the deathly musings suggesting
"a banjo is a guitar that wants to show you a dead body." "City Swans"
ascent was steady, taking off with Case's fluttering vocals and a trotting
guitar part. By the time chorus came, Case disappeared into a blustery cloud
and her unease "I can't look at you straight on" seemed
self-confident. Whether between banter or in the midst of the maelstrom,
Case has an incredible ability to mask any doubt.
If one song projected an
unshakable certainty, it was "Man". An
assault of self-assurance and gender reversals, The Worse Things Get...
highlight shone on stage offering the authoritative version. Case's dirtkicking
choked out the audience and the band hightailed it to the nearest exit.
Coming back out to rapturous
applause, the band provided the ultimate study in contrast to "Man"
with "Nearly Midnight
Honolulu". Clapping died when the acapella number began as a hush fell
over Liberty Hall. During a showstopper of any set, there's occasional seat
fidgeting or hushed murmuring. Not in this instance. It was quiet enough to
hear the audience’s collective heartbeat, if a pulse remained at all. I can't
recall breathing once, each inhalation was stolen by Case to capture the
abusive parent tale. Case and company continued for four more songs, but
"Nearly Midnight Honolulu" became the night’s unquestionable
apotheosis.
Reviewing The Worse Things
Get... I wrote "confidence can't come overnight." That said, the night’s
starkest moments still contained an overwhelming courage to display such
unadorned emotion. If last night's set at Liberty Hall proved anything it's
that Case has never let the reins of her driving confidence go.
Setlist:
1. "Where Did I Leave That Fire?"
2. "This Tornado Loves You"
3. "Bracing for Sunday"
4. "Lion's Jaws"
5. "People Got A Lotta Nerve"
6. "That Teenage Feeling"
7. "Set Out Running"
8. "The Pharaohs"
9. "City Swans"
10. "Maybe Sparrow"
11. "Red Tide"
12. "Wild Creatures"
13. "Calling Cards"
14. "Deep Red Bells"
15. "Hold On, Hold On"
16. "Night Still Comes"
17. "Man"
18. "Nearly Midnight Honolulu"
19. "Local Girl"
20. "Ragtime"
21. " I Wish I Was The Moon"
22. "Margaret vs. Pauline"
In the body above I mentioned
Case and Kelly Hogan's "impeccable rapport", past being an austere
musical performance the show was packed with quotacular moments, a few of which
I've provided below:
"A banjo is a guitar that
wants to show you a dead body."
"That guitar is a
dick."- Said by Case after dropping her weathered acoustic guitar.
"This is more like 5th
base. 5th base is when you let me drive your truck and you're not in it...6th
base is you go to the store and pick up tampons for me."- Case assuming
the role of baseball commentator after someone yelled out "2nd base"
when she suggested the next song would be taking the audience out to
"dinner and a movie."
"All the bosoms laid out
before me, were I a poor man t'would have been a feast."- Case picking up
an English brogue to lampoon Motley Crue's Tommy Lee.
