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Run The Jewels

First Avenue

Minneapolis, MN

October 23, 2015

“I’ll apologize now. If you are wearing glasses, you might want to put those away. If you hate being slammed into by people, you might want to make your way to the back. If you’re rocking brand new sneakers, I’m sorry. I’ve been there. I understand. But you’ve been warned. I’m sorry in advance about your new shoes.”

The speaker is El-P. He and his partner in rhyme Killer Mike are known as Run The Jewels. Maybe you’ve heard of them. No doubt a result of their relentless tour schedule—this being their fifth appearance in the Twin Cities alone in just three years—Run The Jewels have mastered the art of house-rocking. We’re midway through their headlining set at a sold-out First Avenue, where they’ll give this seemingly honest and understanding forewarning just a moment to sink in before Zach de la Rocha’s sampled machinegun-fast vocals crack from the speakers, signifying the arrival of “Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)." “Run them jewels fast, run them jewels fast, run them, run them, run them…fuck the slow-mo...”

And then it happens.

BOOM!

Trackstar The DJ drops the beat and the audience explodes into a frenzy of neck-snapping, pogoing, fake gun-in-the-air-firing, fist-pumping lunacy…again. This is how it’s been since they took the stage. You wouldn’t think it could any crazier, any sweatier, or any OMG-ier. But it does.

Louder than fuck and with enough sub-rattling oompf to run a nuclear reactor, RTJ perform on this night—the second to last of their current tour—as if they are auditioning for their first record deal. Keeping the eager crowd enthusiastic for an hour plus in stifling heat, the duo themselves are intense and furious and restless and command the proceedings instinctively; reaffirming that they are thee force to be reckoned with in the hip-hip pantheon.

The openers Fashawn and Boots fill their roles adequately. The former, clearly understanding the importance of high spots, brings locals Prof and Brother Ali on for one song each. Meanwhile the latter’s The Weekend meets Nine Inch Nails gimmickry (about all the was missing was a bunch of mud and keyboards on boomerang stands) seems a tad out of place, but provides ample time to hit the bathrooms and grab last-minute drinks. And oh boy, the drinks are being had tonight.

RTJ enter the stage as they always do: with Queen’s “We Are the Champions” playing over the PA. They seize control immediately, doing “Run The Jewels”, and then “Oh My Darling Don’t Cry”, and later “Blockbuster Night, Part 1” and “Banana Clipper.” They bark out lyrics like Southern gospel preachers while Trackstar The DJ works the decks, providing a hard-thumping backbone and flexing his turntable dexterity.

Following “Love Again (Akinyele Back)”, the track with the famed hook “She wants this dick in her mouth all day”, El-P and Killer Mike spend an inordinate amount of time trying to drive home the point that it’s not the misogynistic sex rap it’s been mistaken for. “That’s the stupidest lyric for a love song we ever wrote” says El-P. Killer Mike adds, “But don’t get it twisted; it’s a love song. And if Gangsta Boo was here she’d tell you the same thing.”

Okay guys, whatever you say.

The set, which by my estimation contains just about every RTJ song there is—including “Lie, Cheat, Steal”, “Pew, Pew, Pew”, and “All Due Respect”—closes out with a rousing rendition of “A Christmas Fucking Miracle.” And when all is said and done, the crowd is left swaying in their own sweaty puddles, kind of drunk, and in complete awe.

“Dude, that was so awesome. My brand new Jordan’s are fucked. But I can’t wait to see these guys again.”

The speaker is my friend; a young Nebraskan transplant who has just witnessed his first rap show.

Follow Nathan on Twitter at @OMG_NOB

Sick Of It All

Manning Bar

Sydney

October 10, 2015

In this very real world, good does not drive out evil.
Evil does not drive out good.
But the energetic displaces the passive.

Sick Of It All.

The quintessential live hardcore band.

In a live environment, it does not get less passive than the Koller brothers framed by Craig Ahead and Armand, the engine of the band.

Yours truly had his first clobberin' time with SOIA at the German equivalent of a youth centre in the early Nineties with no stage.

24 years later, and many encounters in between on three continents ranging from big festivals to small venues, the quartet from Queens seems to not have lost any steam

Au contraire:

SOIA seem to have somehow managed to be more agile than ever before.

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Photo by KAVV

Lucero

Lee's Palace

Torononto, Ontario

October 15, 2015

In support of their new album All a Man Should Do, Lucero have been pulling double duty on their latest tour and playing two sets a night. Walking into Thursday’s concert at Lee’s Palace, the first of a two-day stint in celebration of the venue’s 30^th anniversary, I had a couple of questions. I was wondering whether or not after seventeen years Lucero had enough fire in their bellies to pull them through two hours of stage time. I was also wondering whether or not as a casual listener I wanted to sit through two hours of Lucero.

The show that night was solid: a well-played and well-rounded mixture of slow jams and up-tempo tacks from through out the band’s extensive catalogue. I enjoyed myself, but not half as much as the rest of the audience. This is because Lucero fans really love Lucero. I don’t mean love in the way that you might love McDonald’s soft-serve or your grandparents. I mean love in that all consuming Annie Wilkes style that makes you afraid someone is going to get stabbed.

The crowd fucking loved the show. A group of about thirty burly dudes in denim pressed themselves against the front of the stage and sang along with every goddamn word to every goddamn song. Behind them a couples danced with a reckless disregard for rhythm, holding each other close during the ballads and shaking ass during the faster tracks. The highlight of the night came when a staggering thirty something, double fisting her rum and Cokes, turned and informed me that Lucero’s singer Ben Nichols is so fucking beautiful that she can’t even fucking date anyone else in real life. She then proceeded to finish both her drinks and sprinted off into the night.

It might sound like I’m making fun of these people, but I’m not. At least not entirely. That environment is kind of amazing. Like any good punk I’ve been known to get drunk and misty to the kiss the bottle cover, but at best I had always been a casual listener of Lucero. But watching the band with those kinds of fans made me feel like I was watching something special. It was like being at a wedding if everyone at the wedding was your drunk uncle and your drunk uncle was fucking stoked on the people getting married.

It’s a cop-out on a review to state that the people who like the band enjoyed watching them play their songs. But what I’m saying is that if you get the chance to see Lucero on this tour you should probably head out and see them. The band sounded great and it’s worth the price of admission for the people watching alone.

Paradise Lost w/Tribulation and Lucifer

October 4th @ KOKO, London

Hype surrounding a band is either indicative of said band being incredibly talented and worth your time, or, on the flipside, a band that has had all the right people push them but they may not be as interesting as other similar acts out there. The support for Paradise Lost tonight includes both of those scenarios and it’s unfortunate for Lucifer that they don’t quite have the songs to back up the excitement that surrounds them. Forming from the ashes of The Oath, Johanna Sadonis went on to form this outfit, and despite the talent that resides within, Lucifer just aren’t very exciting. Songs sound too alike to really stand out and Sadonis’ stage presence feels somewhat forced. Lucifer are a watered down version of the previous band and it’s a shame that the best song of the over-long, forty minute set, comes right at the end with a delightful “Morning Star.” Time will tell whether this group will make it, and ultimately they deserve a chance as deep down this band has the capacity and passion to do so.

Tribulation on the other hand, completely justify the praise they’ve been receiving with the release of The Children of the Night earlier this year. While this Swedish band have been plying their gothic and blackened death metal style for a number of years, it seems as though 2015 has allowed their stars to finally align as their name has been on many lips (although those in the know will tell you they’ve always been this damn good) for months and the anticipation for their performance has been building in the interlude. for"Strange Gateways Beckon" marks their arrival and the following forty five minute pass by far too quickly. Frontman Johannes Andersson commands attention and his presence is a powerful reminder that substance will often win over style and when Tribulation sadly leave after their time is up, they do so with at least a thousand new fans.

The Plague Within is Paradise Lost's newest work and it's a remarkable record that pulls together everything that makes this veteran band so good. Melody, weight, sadness and small glimmers of hope permeate the album and as such, is mirrored in their performance. Nick Holmes commands the audience with wit and humilty, throwing up self-deprecating remarks and talking about how dark the material is before allowing the crowd to fall headlong into the world they have been creating for over twenty years. Paradise Lost have remained popular for that entire time with fans old and new alike embracing changes in their sound and tonight the band showcase the best of their career. 

"No Hope in Sight" begins the evening on soaring melodies and heavy instrumentation before "Widow" falls into view and takes us back to near the beginning of the band. "Gothic" follows and is a devastating reminder that Paradise Lost were the progenators of an entire genre with the Gothic album often cited as a seminal part of musical history. So much so, that it is going to be part of a special Roadburn Festival performance next year.

The past is easliy married to the present and "Terminal" and "Victim of the Past" surround "Praise Lamented Shade" and show that Paradise Lost haven't mislaid their passion for their craft. Older tracks sound as fresh as they did on first release and new tracks fit lovingly into the set. The crowd are enraptured adn the band give them absolutely everything in return with "Cry Out" inciting a mass sing-a-long and the shattering doom of "Beneath Broken Earth" bringing the mood to a devasting low. 

Tonight, Paradise Lost show exactly why they've been creating and playing music for so long - their drive and enthusiasm is clear to see and the music that pours from them is full of love and energy and deep, deep emotion. "As I Die" renders many watching breathless, and "Requiem" seals their fate. Paradise Lost fill this beautiful venue with sadness, despair and melancholy, but with that comes humanity and soul and a timeless grace. 

Algiers

Brighton Music Hall

Boston, MA

September 17, 2015

Photos by Lindsay Corry; more photos here

Algiers self-titled debut this year blew me away with its raw, layered sound and politically poignant lyrics, but for the same reasons I had low expectations for the live show. The Georgia band has created a kind of industrial gospel that combines a Savages-like take on post-punk with angry chants in the style of old slave songs. With echoing handclaps, armies of humming overdubs, and screeching guitars near death, the band needed to either pare its sound down to its most essential elements or unimaginatively play large sections of the tracks on a computer. Surprisingly, Algiers created almost all their sounds live - and not only did it do the album justice, but it gave a picture of how innovative bands like Algiers put songs together.

The band played at Boston’s Brighton Music Hall, a small, comfy venue with a couple billiard tables in the back and pictures of Pete Townshend and Paul Simonon on the wall. Local band Aneurysm opened first. The level their amp knobs were turned to was probably higher than the number of people in the venue as they fired to-the-point riffs similar to post-hardcore bands like Touché Amoré. Unfortunately, the singer - who I can best describe as sounding like an incoherent, drunk hillbilly - made the band into mostly a comedy act. Still, I would check them out if only to hear those badass guitar riffs. Next was Dark Blue, who is on tour with Algiers. They sounded like if somehow New Order and Interpol’s Paul Banks did a collaboration together, giving an interesting mix of 80s and contemporary rock. The bass player seemed almost too into the music - jumping around like the Pete Townshend on the wall, all while the Paul-Banks-like singer apathetically stood still for the whole show - but otherwise it was a chill way to cool down from the loud goofiness of Aneurysm and get ready for Algiers.

I should mention that during Aneurysm and Dark Blue there was this one weird dude in the audience who would occasionally go up right next the speakers, covering his ears but meditatively bobbing his head to the beat. I had my suspicions but wasn’t totally sure until Algiers got on stage that that weird dude was lead-singer Franklin James Fisher. The band took a risk and opened with what’s probably their most well-known song, “Black Eunuch.” It was an abrasive introduction - for a couple minutes the four-piece clapped and shouted those slave-song chants until guitarist Lee Tesche started playing those short, sharp riffs. Throughout the song the band looped a bunch of hums and “ooohs” on top of themselves until there was a wall of vocals behind them as they finished.  

The four-piece wall of sound became a formula throughout the show, but a welcomed formula. Before each song the band would spend several minutes of what seemed like tuning their instruments and checking their mics - playing a few notes on a guitar or keyboard, the drummer hitting something a few times, someone shouting into the mic - until finally the track came alive. Every piece of complex tracks like “And When You Fall” and “Irony. Utility. Pretext.” were there on stage without sounding pre-produced or too much like the studio recording. I especially have to give credit to bassist and keyboardist Ryan Mahan, who put together a ton of those sounds. For the whole show he had this intense, 1,000-mile stare into the 50-person audience as he made really short yelps into the mic that sounded totally awkward while he was doing it but totally awesome when he looped those yelps on top of the song.

One highlight I have to point out was “Old Girl.” Once again the band spent several minutes creating a looped choir before beginning the song, and then they extended that drums-only breakdown in the middle of the song. The drummer had a regular drum set and an electronic one, which made this really hard-hitting mix of raw and produced sound. The wave of hums and “ahhhs” the band looped during those minutes poured out when Tesche delivered that buzzing, screeching guitar line that’s my favorite part of the whole album - and in turn that was my favorite part of the whole show. People should get tickets if only to hear that song live.

I can definitely see Algiers getting bigger, so it’s worth seeing them now while they’re playing at cheaper, smaller venues for a more intimate show. You’ll be able to hang with Fisher if he’s in the audience and then get a close view of his soulful singing and smooth dance moves to modern protest songs. In the coming weeks they’ll be in Denver, St. Louis, Chicago, Cleveland, Montreal, Toronto, and Brooklyn before heading on their European tour.