The years of consent can also be a curse, and a frame of reference may also be too large. The impression we got on the final day of Sonic City. Most of the bands could get their examples difficult of shake. Except Suuns & Jerusalem in My Heart, that in his inimitable way themselves, and especially Thurston Moore, who courteously and with the fingers in the nose, his class demonstrated.
HO9909: where were the guitars?
Horror (‘that is H-O-nine-nine-O-nine’, pressed fronting the OGM us for the sake of clarity, even on the heart) caused already during the soundcheck for trommelvliesverscheurdende noise. A letter of intent, as it turned out, because from the first dubdreunen of Prisoners of War went HO99O9 an hour long-far over the pain threshold, even for those who have earbuds wore. A pity, because for those who not with bleeding ears to the outside wanted to, was choosing between plague and cholera: a part of your hearing or a part of the sound sacrifice. We opted for the latter.
HO9909 ties in with the everything louder than everything else-tradition of legendary black punk bands like Bad Brains and the, until recently, obscure Death. Casey Jones, a Cum Rag , Bone Collector, and Dead Bodies in the Lake raged over. On the border between nightmare and the camp, deafening and compelling – all made from conservation to deep in our ears gepropte rubber mousse for some distance.
And that detachment was further facilitated by the formula of this triumvirate. All the riffs – we heard samples and echoes of Minor Threat, H20 , and The Misfits – came out of a box, which after five songs yet the impression was given to an – admittedly profane loud – soundmixshow to look.
Incomprehensible that a band for his sound and his energy so heavily on a distorted guitar sound lean, just the guitars and the bass at home. A good fifteen decibels less and one Gibson ‘Flying V’ had enough to here a memorable concert. Now we were halfway about the punkenergie and the obligatory Bath Brainscover despite.
Total Control: the end search
Total Control, and did it again vice-versa. ‘Bands with only drum machines and synths are just not as much fun to watch as bands with a drummer, let singer Than Stewart recently noted. Nevertheless, he had his drummer thuisgelaten. ‘Much fun to watch’ were in Total Control, not really.
The soundcheck was a total ónglamoureuze way about in a concert, especially a lot of road had an open rehearsal in the rehearsal room. With each song they seemed the end to be forgotten, and the songs were then – again and again – ended with some casual gepiel and snarengepluk.
But they did have a suitcase full of catchy, droney and deeply in the eighties rooted pop songs. Expensive Dogs, the Vote Cops, All Punk, Carpet Rash and Flesh War sounded as if they okselfris were flown from Manchester. Their real roots – the band members are born and raised in Melbourne – loved Total Control, hidden under a thick layer of influences from and references to Joy Division, New Order, Gary Numan and Underworld. Then Stewart continued, entirely in the spirit of the time where he put on his mustard took, a very occur long struggle with himself and the world. Not a Cheerful Frenchmen, or Australians with a handful of good songs-without-end.
Suuns & Jerusalem in my Heart: for the love of Drone
The first real musical adventure of the evening is the not-so-obvious joint-venture of indie-rockers Suuns and Jerusalem in my Heart. The studiosamenwerking between Suuns and producer Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (the brains behind Jerusalem in my Heart) dates back to 2012, but was due to circumstances only this year released. The live version of this project grabbed from the first note to the throat.
The set starts with a long, drawn-out vocal mantra of Moumneh, alternately threatening and balsemend and even some Tool-references. A moment later, takes the same Moumneh the public with a which solo on an electrically amplified guembri, a kind of Arabian lute or mandolin, that we this summer when Robert Plant a starring role saw play.
An hour long magic and frolic Suuns and Jerusalem in my Heart in a breathtaking way, with genres and influences.
Gradually, it seems to be one clear agreement to emerge, that both bands connect. In songs like In Touch, Seif, 3 attam baby or the instrumental Metal seems to be the greatest common divisor a common love for a drone, a hypnotic postrockhartslag, that we the whole concert long by our diaphragm feel the boom. Now supported by almost impersonal and yet catchy vocoder-vocals, and then again by the hypnotic muezzin-out of Moumneh, who the audience from an imaginary minaret seems to sing.
Involuntarily, we must, and – again – a Tool of thinking, or Pink Floyd, not coincidentally, two bands that build bridges to art. Suuns and Jerusalem in My Heart blew us an hour to knock down. Beautiful concert.
Lightning Bolt: Soulful teringherrie
After the concert, Lightning Bolt was recorded we were in the vicinity of the bar a complaint: ‘I have them this year already three times and they played three times in the same set, and had a not so early thirties again.
That note brought us, despite an increasingly venijniger growing oorsuis, to smile. Had we, to the extent possible, enjoyed the show of Lightning Bolt. Although the band of drummer Brian Chippendale – who later in the evening by Thurston Moore was thanks for the opsouperen of the paper handkerchiefs in the backstage for almost twenty years, believe in soulful teringherrie, this was the first time we made them live to the work saw.
Chippendale and bassist Brian Gibson look like the murdered innocence. Perhaps dààrom that Chippendale for the most part of the concert, his face hides behind a hideously distorted mask. With z’n twos to ensure Lightning Bolt for a truly unique spectacle. Gibsons bass shaking every second of the concert – even during his most relaxed moment, which sounds still like there are six Lemmy Kilmisters at the same time, and Chippendale banging and roffelt, snaps, barks, and serves in the meantime another stemeffecten, effects processor and loopstation. A thick half-hour long, we are here with open mouth looking at it.
But then the devilish drumroffel for our almost one continuous tone. The ears are run. The Raketkanonsyndrome. But even without that bewustzijnsverlaging we had no songs in the can distinguish. Let alone that we would have noticed if Lighnting Bolt us here already for the third time, the same set had served.
Thurston Moore Band: a warm blanket of sound against the first frost
“Hi, we’re a band. I’m Thurston, and these are James, Deb and Steve, greeted Thurston Moore to his lips hanging audience. ‘Steve’ is Steve Shelley, the drummer of Sonic Youth. ‘Deb’ is Debbie Googe of My Bloody Valentine. And together, they sound like Thurston Moore at his Sonicyouthst.’
The sound from the first note perfectly. Impressive, especially since Moore hardly has gesoundcheckt. We saw ‘m, single-handedly and slouching, his pedaaltjes – just four pieces – preparation, z’n cables unroll, and then two or three chords strike.
Nevertheless, the sounds Speak to the Wild heaven. Not a note sounds too sharp, everything is perfectly in balance, two guitars and a bass that, together a deep, warm and comforting sound weaving. Cease Fire, a new song, by Moore announced as an invitation for help to reach out to “everyone who support, comfort, warmth, protection, or shelter needs’. ‘The very thought of that is the core of all activism’, he adds. While he says it, is in Brussels egg so after the state of siege was proclaimed.
The band makes music with evident pleasure. Especially Steve Shelley, sweating like a pig and all the time with ecstatic smiles on the lips, shining sight to death to amuse. And they may be a band, such as Thurston Moore just said, he is actually the conductor. The group members are now almost in a semi-circle drawn up, so that everyone the band leader well into the eye can keep. Moore, and he alone, leads the orchestra. Gentle and subtle, with a hoofdknikje, or just through the typical accumulated changes in and thus the speed and the feel of the concert to dictate.
It remains impressive to ‘m busy to see. The casual and creative way of play, the maneuvers with the back of his right hand, on his fifty-seventh still disarming boyish geslungel. Turn on, The Best Day, Grace Lake, Exalted and Staring Statues are pieces of protection from the freezing cold.
Thurston Moore is a agressieloos man. And the music of the Thurston Moore Band, although loud and compelling, contains no aggression, only heat. With a simple ‘thank you’ and a friendly wuifhandje takes Moore farewell of The Friend. In a good eight songs, and without the want or bother to do, protested Moore and his unparalleled class.
Also read the Sonic Cityverslagen of Viet Cong, of The Pop Group and Chelsea Wolfe and Evil Superstars.