Aural Aggravation

Christopher Nosnibor

Shellac performing in the UK outside London is a big deal. That it’s their second time at the Brudenell in less than three years is an immense deal: the fact that Albini declares his love of the venue from the stage only reaffirms what pretty much anyone who’s ever attended or played a show there already knows: it’s the best venue going.

Needless to say, it’s sold out, and was sold out within days of tickets going on sale. And Shellac reward the crowd by walking on stage, playing some songs, and packing up at the end. Literally: Steve Albini’s guitar and pedals are in their case and Todd Trainer’s drum kit is disassembled and in covers before Bob Weston’s played the final bars of an immense rendition of ‘The End of Radio’. It’s this lack of pretence and un-rock ‘n’ roll approach that’s an integral part of the band’s appeal. Albini’s critical observations on the mechanics of the music industry are almost as legendary as the countless band’s he’s recorded (the fact he ‘records’, rather than ‘produces’ the music is telling), Shellac know that people have paid money to watch a band play songs, and that’s precisely what they do, for almost an hour and three quarters.

Helen Money does a great job of getting the audience warmed up. If you haven’t heard Helen before, then you’ll have never heard such noise from a cello. Despite being as thin as a lath, she has a wiry strength and dominates the instrument with a range of techniques for creating soundscapes that range from the mellow to the tempestuous. For all this, never once does she abuse her instrument, instead using a vast array of effects pedals to sculpt sounds which span near-ambience to something approximating overdriven guitars amidst a squall of feedback. Her presence is disarmingly understated: her music is breathtaking.

Helen Money

With five albums and a bunch of EPs in their back catalogue, Shellac have no shortage of material. But they know what works live and how to pace a set, and they’re as tight as hell – not simply in the rehearsed sense, but the intuitive sense that is the intangible element that defines the best live acts. Having spent the last 22 years listening to the band, I know the songs as well as anyone in the room, but am still blown away by the tempo changes: it’s the way they’ll accelerate and decelerate over the course of one or two bars to create those lurching moments of disorientation that really hits home. That, and the immense sonic force they deliver the songs with. Not for the first time, I’m reminded that they’re not a ‘guitar’ band: they’re a powerhouse rhythm section band who use guitars to provide multitudinous textures and tonal variety, and to bring dynamics to the thunderous drumming and bass that sounds like two basses and a guitar all at once. And they play hard, working up a real sweat.

Shellac

The lack of gear is actually quite remarkable: Albini has just a couple of pedals, and switches his lead from his amp to run through (what I assume to be) a preamp of some description. There’s no trickery here, just three guys with big amps and some real skills.

It’s testament to the depth of their catalogue that they can open with ‘My Back Ass’ without shooting their load for the rest of the set. And when said set includes ‘Squirrels,’ ‘Prayer to God’, ‘Crow’ and an epic ‘Wingwalker,’ it makes sense. They absolutely nail ‘You Came In Me’, and ‘Dude Incredible’.

Shellac

Albini straps his guitar round his waist and attacks every chord. He doesn’t talk much: it’s Weston, the man with the box of ‘Shellac’s Tea’ (a modified ‘Yorkshire Tea’ box) on top of his amp who leads the entertaining Q&A sessions when Steve needs a moment to tune up his battered guitar, from which he trips endless jolting shards of clanging metallic abrasion.

They play a couple of extra songs to compensate fucking one up earlier. I doubt anyone out front noticed, in truth, and certainly no-one’s complaining, and no-one expects an encore. Set closer ‘The End of Radio’ may run for almost a quarter of an hour, but it flies, and it’s all there: the tempo changes, the explosive drumming, the dynamic range.

Shellac

You’d be hard-pressed to find a band who in the live context succeed in replicating effect of the studio recordings while adding new dimensions and a yet more thrusting immediacy than Shellac. You’d also be hard-pressed to find a band committed to giving the fans value for money, or an outstanding performance Better than good: they are, indeed, incredible.