Met up with Josh and Jeff (our out-of-town expert on Awesome and Ottawa) at the Bishop and Belcher on a warm and foggy (fogwai?) night. The Tuesday Special menu usually would mean a NY steak but decided on nachos instead. Pleasantly rewarded. A lot of places tend to over-do nachos but the B & B got it just right: one layer of softish nacho chips (as opposed to corn-flavoured shrapnel) and melted marble cheese (as opposed to orange lactic grout fused into waxed serving paper). Bravo.
With three cliff-hanger playoff games, but no team to cheer for, there was a sort of frustrated anticipation in the air. Odd but familiar. Jack Layton. PM Jack Layton?! It's Habs 2 - Bruins 1 in the 2nd and we're off to the Phoenix.
We arrive with the opening act already into their set. A good-sized crowd presses up against the stage, looking sky-ward and bobbing their head. We swim along the side to the back which still has some space. Spot a time-table taped to the booth at the back - everything on schedule. The scene was aptly described by Jeff's boss, Sylvia, as "eclectic", a little "hipster" but not quite "trendy". Sombre but not sober is my take.
The openers were supposed to be Mogwai labelmates, the Errors, but due to some craziness we got Old World Vultures comprised of a remarkably appreciative guitarist, a (standing) keyboardist, bassist and (seated) drummer. Josh thought they were a Mogwai cover band. The drummer works the kick bass with a passion, which has a cool echo effect coming through the mic. The guitarist has some neat effects pedals translating them into an assortment of shrieks and drones. They move the spotlight around effectively with the Bassist picking up his share of the melodic duties.
Then there's the Synth. Maybe I'm picking on him because he was standing. I mean, they have keyboards you can play while standing - they are called Accordions. The more problematic thing was the tone of the keyboards - too clean. MHO, it doesn't combine well with distorted guitar and deeper Bass tones. Noticed it in the penultimate song with a massive chord which came out very screetchy; would have been easier to digest with a wavier tone.
Intermission arrived and talk turned to whiskey. More people filed in and sightlines were getting pretty shabby. I got stuck behind a loving couple - a necessary evil it seems in the music concert biz. The place is very full by this point and 3 minutes behind schedule, Mogwai take the stage.
A terse "I'm Stuart from Glasgow" preceeds the opening volley of awesome; a track from their latest album: Hardcore Will Never Die But You Will
A screen has been setup over the band and a series of white on black geometric shapes swirl around gradually coalescing into something recognizable. Order from Chaos. Jeff, a Platonist, goes into a mindgasm. The guitars swell and the song slowly builds on the foundation of an echoey rhythm guitar. The lead guitar starts and cuts away. The control of dynamics is really quite amazing. A radio-length cut, this one ends with a typically down-pitched "Thank you" from Stuart and they are into the next track.
The rhythm guitar starts with a slow picking tune which slowly morphs into a pleasing counterpoint with the lead. This continues until one one guitar explodes into a distorted swoon. Choose your own metaphor. The slow disciplined build is characteristic. The synth supports rather than leads - great choice, they seem better for harmonic chords not so much for melody. The drums aren't as bass-laden as the Old World Vultures - more crash cymbals and snare.
Mogwai deserve a whole section on guitar effects that I wish I had the knowledge to write. The sound of a pick on strings is almost completely absent from the Mogwai experience. Instead, the guitars see a steady amount of strumming which accelerates steadily throughout a track. This accelerated strumming builds layers of volume. The results are massive resonant chords that you can build something out of.
Meanwhile, this is turning into a private kind of experience for the crowd. One can sense this by the manner in which people carefully thread their way to and from the bar so as not to jostle or disrupt one another. There's a brief pause as some glitch is worked out and someone yells out "Glasgow Mega-Snake". Sorry dude, that is not your Mom and this is is not your iPod.
There's something sort of unusal about the ending of a Mogwai song performed live. Both Mogwai and the audience know when a song ends - and it has nothing to do with when the sounds stops coming out of the speakers. There is a consensus happening on another level that the song is done and the matter of turning off the juice is merely ritual.
Feeling parched, I make a move to the back area. Turns out the view is better; not just of the voluptuous raven-haired bartender, but of the whole visual package. Must say, the crew did a fantastic job of integrating the lighting, sound and video track. The neatest visuals were of a cyclist slaloming through verdant hilly countryside on a narrow road. Choose your own metaphor. Very different feel from their film Burning.
After a long spell of instrumentals, the band tries some vocals. Unfortunately, the levels on the mic weren't set up. Stuart picks up on this. Hardcore will never die, but your Mic will.
Another track starts off with a vaguely familiar Kraftwerk feel to it. I started to think of other bands with three guitars. Lynrd Skynrd. Iron Maiden. Pretty good company.
The band comes out for the encore. Murmurs for "My Father, My King" but not today. We get three nice tracks, the last one a doozy as Stuart and Dominic? work the Marshalls for some terminal feedback. Stuart leaves but his guitar lives on. Hardcore will never die, but You will. My ears are humming as we leave the Phoenix.
Mogwai are a Guild of Musicians. They build Walls of Sound.
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