Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Sensory Overload

Drool... gibber... er... MASTODON! Last night. 930 Club. Wow. Man. Yeah. Er.

And Intronaut. And Kylesa. But especially Mastodon. Yeah. Unbelievable.

More later, I think.

Later. Ok, Tes, here you go.

Intronaut: thunder and crystal, hard nasty grooves. A richly nuanced sledgehammering.

Kylesa: two drummers, frontwoman Laura Pleasants (could a metalbabe have a better name?) pumping sheer brutality out of her gold top Les Paul and growling and snarling like some kind of growling snarling thing. I lean over to Tina and shout "I'm in love!" in her hear.

All this stuff is, of course, unbelievably loud. The music is tactile. My pantlegs are flapping. Every thump of a bass drum sends a ripple through my torso. This is the sensuality of metal. It's a full-body experience; it demands surrender. You cannot maintain a safe intellectual distance. Resistance is futile. I'm really happy I brought earplugs.

Mastodon's first set is the new album Crack the Skye verbatim. It's a huge, sprawling work that I'm still getting my head around. There are indescribably beautiful moments: the surprise last chorus of "Oblivion," the point at the beginning of "Quintessence" when the arpeggiated guitar figure kicks in, the restatement of the first verse at the end of "The Czar." Projected images behind the band from Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky. The band is tight, professional, and clearly having the time of their lives. We're up in the balcony on stage right, close enough to see Brent Hinds grinning ear to ear. Most of the floor of the club is a mosh pit. Three security guards, calm and impassive in the storm, watch the writhing pile of humanity from behind the barricade and pull crowd surfers out when they get too close.

The second set kicks things into an even higher gear: time to have some fun with the back catalogue. "Bladecatcher," "Colony of Birchmen," "Crystal Skull," "Iron Tusk," "I am Ahab," "Magalodon." The closer is "March of the Fire Ants," Brent Hinds swaying in ecstasy during the intro. As the house lights come up at the end, Brann Dailor comes out to the edge of the stage with his quiver of drumsticks and throws them, one by one, into the crowd.

6 comments:

fiddlemethis said...

More? Now? Can haz?

Rob said...

Done. :-) My blogging reflex is in a sorry state since I've been on Facebook.

pleasurefromthethorns said...

speaking of growling snarling things to be in love with....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXzIeI0mkFI&feature=channel

ps...these verification words are awesome lately...."catopoo"

Rob said...

Wow, great stuff. And she's cute! Doncha just want to take her home and cuddle her? :-) Excellent use of false vocal cords too.

fiddlemethis said...

YES!!! On all counts :-)

(better late than never....)

p.s. my verification word is "drecks."

Rob said...

"Yard taint" is still the winner, I think.