Yes, I decided to go. My attempt at being reasonable didn't seem to fool any of you-- I myself was barely believing it. So I went. And I'm glad.
It's been a busy several weeks since, and while I wish I could have written sooner, the impact of the show remains with me, and the memories of that night linger in my mind like some blurry cell-phone snapshots...
To say The Boredoms are an acquired taste is an understatement, yet still I expected their history and influence, crossed with the uniqeness and rarity of their live performances, to pack the club. Not so. Yeah, it was a good turnout, but one should not be able to arrive a few minutes before the first opener and find a spot up against the stage waiting for him.
Let's speed through the openers, shall we?
First was Black Pus, aka Brian Chippendale of the band Lightning Bolt. He pumped out intense grooves on a drum kit while looping and distorting his own vocals. Good concept, great playing, but the novelty faded before his 45 minutes were up.
FirstNext was Black PusSoft Circle, aka Brian ChippendaleHisham Bharoocha of the band Lightning BoltBlack Dice. He pumped out intense grooves on a drum kit while looping and distorting his own vocals. Good concept, great playing, but the novelty faded before his 45 minutes were up.
Darkness. Four people approach the stage, and three of them take their places behind drum kits that, along with a keyboard stack, make a circle facing inward towards the center of the stage. Off to the side is a large concert bass drum, and in the back is a Frankenstein monolith with seven electric guitar necks branching out. This can only end in greatness.
Holy crap, is Yoshimi P-We sitting down at the drum kit in front of me? Not only is she a little percussive dynamo, but she is the mastermind behind the band OOIOO, of which I might actually be a bigger fan. She's barefoot. She has nice feet, I will later note, as she thumps on the electric organ pedals off to her side.
The three drummers sit silently, waiting for their leader. Yamantaka Eye is the only source of light on the stage, as he holds in each hand a glowing translucent sphere with contact mics attached. When he flails his arms and dances violently, which he does between bursts of chant, the spheres create a buildup of undulating tones and feedback. He performs, alone, in the center of the stage. The drummers watch him, and behind them we watch as well. He has a brace on his left foot. This warms me in a funny way; Eye may reach higher than most of us, but he's vulnerable just the same. And I'll bet there's an interesting story there, as well.
In time the drummers join in with Eye, and the show is in full tilt. However, this is where the review must end. Conventional styles of critical writing are not made to deal with this type of information. That is, any effort I could make to chronicle the original music produced that night-- that continuous outpouring of ideas both planned and extemporaneous, the forcing of timbres to dance and copulate, the musical equivalent of a dramatic manic-depressive episode-- would only cheapen it. I could mention Eye pounding on the guitar tree with broomsticks, building a huge droning C chord, or the unified bashes and clangs of the group, or the interludes of near-chaotic polyrhythms, but out of the context of the whole show these are little more than curiosities, am I right?
I don't mean to imply that this show was beyond words. It was gripping, thrilling, beautiful, I may even say triumphant, but it had its limits. I just don't feel that it would be fair to attempt to describe it, that's all. Or perhaps I'm just not good enough to do it fairly. I will simply say that The Boredoms is a good show, and worth seeing. And really, that's all you need to know.
