Christopher Nosnibor
If ever there was a case for the advancement of human cloning, tonight is it. It’s the first of a two-night residency for the mighty Mogwai, who typically sell out the 2,300 capacity O2 Academy, so it’s not hard to grasp why tickets for these intimate shows sold out in a flash. Meanwhile, across the way, there’s Leeds post-metal legends Humanfly, playing for the first time since 2013, with no lesser band than bloody Remote Viewing, whose forthcoming third album is a blinder, as the main support. I mean, come on! Life just isn’t fair.
I’ve dabbled with Mogwai’s records, but have, as is often the case with coming to a well-established band rather late, been daunted by their catalogue. What’s more, I’ve long been told that you have to see them live to really experience them. And if you’re going to see a big act, seeing them in a small venue – officially the best small venue in Britain, for that matter – is obviously the best way to do it, if the opportunity arises.
The band’s touring keyboardist / guitarist Alex Mackay is also a solo artist – and an academic – in his own right. Initially, there are pipe organ type drones underlaid by some heavier frequencies and the low-end vibrations become quite noticeable as set evolves. Some of the transitions seemed somewhat disjointed. Having given some of his debut album, Targazer an ear, it’s apparent this was fully intentional. It makes for uneasy listening at times. People looked uncomfortable. The chatter was audible in the quiet parts, but it was low-key.
Alex Mackay
When it comes to post-rock, Mogwai were forerunners: if 2004-2006 represented the peak of post-rock (or, viewed another way, saturation point), the fact that they started out in 1996 and are marking their thirtieth anniversary with this tour speaks for itself. No doubt some will be disappointed that their favourite songs didn’t make the setlist (some early calls out were met with Stuart Braithwaite – who’s not much one for chat between songs beyond a ‘cheers’ and ‘thank you very much’) explaining that they don’t take requests, but thanks anyway for the interest – but the thirteen-song setlist, which runs just over an hour and a half certainly drew from across the span of their career. And if anyone is disappointed, they don’t show it: there’s a really good vibe in the room tonight, and perhaps another significant benefit of playing intimate gigs means the gig casuals don’t get a look in.
They sound absolutely incredible, too: the detail within the quieter passages, where the interplay between instruments is integral to the composition, is crystal clear, and the explosive crescendos are nothing short of immense. I’m reminded of some of the reasons why I grew weary of the genre around twenty years ago: first, many of the bands coming out around then fell to formula – you knew when the loud bit would come, and what it would do, and second, many of them were petty timid and wishy-washy. Mogwai are neither of these things, and this is likely one of the keys to their enduring success. Perhaps not being particularly au-fait with the material meant that I was able to witness all of this with fresh ears, benefiting from not knowing where the changes come. Oftentimes, the songs would diminish and appear to be on the brink of a slow fade, before crashing back in like a tsunami. And yes, I found myself reminded of why post-rock was so exhilarating before the saturation came. There’s nothing quite like quiet-loud dynamics pushed to the limit, and the rush of the moment when the volume and distortion kicks in and carries you away.
Mogwai
Having concluded the set with ‘Mogwai Fear Satan’ from their debut album – a track with builds on a groove and rides through a series of sustained climaxes to explosive conclusion. There’s a sense that it’s a case of job done: they’ve gone back to the beginning, hit us hard, and that the tanks are drained. I doubt anyone would have left feeling short-changed.
Mogwai
But there is an encore, and after the gentle meander of ‘May Nothing But Happiness Come Through Your Door’ – the second track lifted from their second album, Come on Die Young¸ they return once more to Young Team with ‘Like Herod’, and from out of nowhere, they hit the boosters and power up with ten per cent more firepower for a succession of face-melting squalling blasts – not so much sustained crescendos, but an experience akin to standing next to a jet engine.
Yes, you really do have to see them live to truly experience them.
Aural Aggravation 