Boris @ Great American Music Hall
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I just lost my job. In freelance-speak, I had a long-term contract end prematurely. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I feel the same way about this job as I have about most others: I won’t miss the work, but I will miss the pay. For the moment, I feel the breath of freedom. Lack of security, of course, is the major barrier to fully enjoying this freedom; I feel its specter encroach with every passing day. I’m certainly not in a position to be penniless again, and if there’s anything I hate more than moving, it’s finding a new job. With all these conflicting reactions in mind, I need a leveling. I want heavy, cathartic guitars: chords so chunky and three-dimensional, they’re almost edible. With that in mind, I went to see Boris, Red Sparowes, and Helms Alee last Thursday at the Great American Music Hall in SF. I got what I wanted… sort of.
Helms Alee barely took a half hour. They killed it. Their set was a primer for opening bands. Fat chordal stabs emerged from Ben Verellen’s custom-made amplifiers, not fuzzy but with a crunch that would have made AC/DC proud. There was a stunning clarity in the bass and guitar, which intertwined in a Fugazi-esque, semi-proggy collusion of clever yet primal riffs. This was punctuated by some of the best and most confident live singing I’ve seen from a hard rock band. Holy shit, these guys had pipes. Pitch-perfect harmonies cut clearly over odd-time motifs whose melodic shading harked back to early Crimson, Shellac, and at times the aforementioned Aussies. Helms Alee accomplished that rare thing that few openers manage: leaving the audience wanting more. This was a generous crowd, regardless (all ages, lots of teens), but the place was packed early on, and people clamored for more well after they’d packed up. Theirs was the set to beat for the night.
I looked forward to seeing Red Sparowes, as I’d heard so much about them but had missed opportunities to catch them live until now. Red Sparowes’ principal commodity is an indistinct, minor-key wash on a perpetual dynamic level of about 6 (10 being highest). With no melodies or identifiable figures ever rising up, I wonder if this is the perfect realization of Brian Eno’s ambient music, designed exclusively for the background. Even at subdued volumes, Eno’s careful compositional aesthetic imbued even his ambient pieces with too much character to be truly relegated to the background. I struggled to discern character and identity in the inoffensive, concordant soup of the Sparowes’ live sound. The details of their music are enticing on record with a decent pair of headphones. Live, the effect of five rock musicians going full bore on complementary melodic patterns with no focal point is subtractive.
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Boris – “Pink” (video)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WkaeBZ1kGU
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On to Boris. Drummer Atsuo, Boris’ unofficial MC, was one hell of a performer. When he emerged onstage in a sequined vest and white gloves, ceremoniously grasping his gong mallet, the room erupted in approval. His energy was infectious, and his flamboyant persona came across as positive and inclusive, rather than egotistic. After his gong-banging ritual, Boris launched into a mix of everything they’ve done well over their nearly two-decade career: heavy, shoegaze dirges; thrash-inflected stoner rock; and mellow, controlled, dreamy pop. They pulled off each of these manifestations convincingly. It made for a dynamic and satisfying set.
That said, full-throttle rockers like “Pink”, “Statement”, and “Korosu” were my favorites of the night. Boris ripped the place to shreds with these numbers, though I was annoyed getting slam-danced by teens. Epic dirges “A Bao A Qu” and “Farewell” were prime baths of fuzzy chord bombs. This is my second favorite mode of Boris – a sludgier, more Sabbath-y take on the lysergic swirl of My Bloody Valentine. Even a mellow number like “Rainbow” managed to transport and hypnotize while remaining minimal and restrained. These “slow dance” interludes created an effective breather between bashers and provided contrast to ensure they’d hit home.
All in all, ’twas a good night. I successfully left my worries on the shelf, and my ears rang happily from the amplifier worship. Coming up next: Slayer/Megadeth/Testament at Cow Palace…
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