Posts Tagged ‘Live’

Teleost – Three Originals

Posted: 16 March 2025 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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3rd January 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Only the middle of March and I’m running behind on releases, so my apologies to Teleost for letting this one slip down the pile, especially as I’d been looking forward to it for some time. Even their earliest live shows, Before rebranding as Teleost, the duo, consisting of Leo Hancill and Cat Redfern, showed a rare musical chemistry, resulting in music of huge, immersive power. Recent shows, such as their recent York homecoming show with Cwfen, demonstrated that they have reached a whole other level of almost transcendental drone, a place where sound becomes a physical force.

But the challenge for any band who are so strong as a live unit, is how successfully can that be translated via the record medium. To commit the sound to tape – or digital recording – is in some way to compress and contain it, to reduce it to two – or even one – dimension. A recording is essentially a listening experience, without the visual element, without the klick drum or the low frequences vibrating your ribs, and all of the other stuff. So how have Teleost faced up to that challenge? Remarkably well. No doubt recording the guitar and drums live has helped retain the huge sound of the live experience. No slickening, studio polishing, just that huge sound caught in real-time, and Pedro at The Audio Lounge in Glasgow has done a remarkable job, clearly understanding what the band are about.

Three Originals opens with the ponderous grind of ‘Forget’, where a sustained whistle of reverby feedback is rapidly consumed by the first thick, sludgy chord: the distortion is speaker-decimatingly dense, and there’s so much low-end you feel it in the lower colon. It’s pure Sunn O))), of course, but then the ultra-heavy drums crash in and the vocals start… Hancill’s approach to singing is very much about rendering his voice an additional instrument rather than the focal point, and the elongated enunciations convey an almost abstractly spiritual sensation.

The first time I saw Earth was following their return with Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I, and I spent the entire show completely hypnotised by Adrienne Davies’ slow drumming. It was an experience I shall never forget: it was if time slowed down, and empires could rise and fall between each beat. I haven’t experienced anything similar since, until Teleost. And once you’ve had such a powerful visual experience in a musical context, it’s not only impossible to forget it, but it becomes integrated with hearing the band. And so it is that on listening to Three Originals, I find myself reliving that experience. It’s clear where Teleost draw their influences, but in amalgamating that low, slow drone of Sunn O))) with the more nuanced, tectonic crawling groove of latter-day Earth, they offer something that is distinct and different.

The seven-and-a-half-minute ‘Ether’ blasts in and the sheer density of that guitar is pulverizing. It simply does not sound like two people, let alone that it’s one guitar and no bass. There’s a delicate mid-section consisting of a clean guitar break before the landslide of distortion hits once more. Final track, ‘Throwaway’ is anything but, another sprawling, seven-minute monster dominated by gut-churning sludge and yawning yelps of feedback, while the vocals drift plaintively in the background.

Three Originals is without doubt their strongest work to date, my only complaint being that it simply isn’t long enough. But then, if each track was fifteen minutes long, it still wouldn’t be. In the field of doomy droney heaviosity, Three Originals is in a league of its own.

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The Illness / Nature Kids – The Crescent Community Centre, York, 16 February 2025

Posted: 17 February 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

On this night twenty-four years ago, I was at Leeds University Refectory, watching The Sisters of Mercy play their tenth anniversary gig. Having previously only seen them once, in November 1990, at Wembley Arena, to be in the front row in a venue so much more intimate was absolutely mind-blowing. This reminiscence has little to no correspondence to tonight’s event, beyond the date, although I recall that it was a bitingly cold night, the kind of seasonal grimness that means it’s a real effort to venture out.

Thankfully, despite it not only being absolutely biting, but being a Sunday, a decent crowd has ventured out for this, the second part of the album launch event for The Illness’ debut album (the first part having been in Liverpool the night before, with the band being split between Liverpool and York). 6:30 doors and the prospect of not only two quality bands and an early finish are likely all contributing factors in terms of incentive.

So what do we know about The Illness? Not a lot. It’s taken them a decade knocking about to get to this point. The notes which accompany the Bandcamp of their eponymous EP, released in 2020 and featuring Steve West and Bob Nastanovich of Pavement, gives a clue as to where the time goes: ‘Following 5+ years of scrapped sessions, line-up changes and other distractions, both tracks were initially recorded in the basement of a former maternity home, Heworth Moor House in York (on Scout Niblett’s old 8-track machine). Steve recorded his vocals at Marble Valley Studio, Richmond, Virginia and Bob in Des Moines, Iowa.’

It’s a tale reminiscent of the likes of The Stone Roses and My Bloody Valentine stalling on their second album… only this is a band that stalled for more than five years without releasing a note. So the fact Macrodosed has arrived at all seems nothing short of miraculous.

Before they launch the album, Nature Kids – a band who’ve been gigging around York for a while but I have no experience of – warm things up, and they’re nice. That’s not ‘nice’ in the bland, insipid way, but the enthusiastic way. They serve up a set of mellow indie, which is both happy and sad at the same time. There’s some nice twangy country tones and subtle keyboard work, and some saw action, too. ‘Always’ goes a bit post-punk and has a tidy groove to it, and is a standout in a set of consistent quality. The lead guitar is what really stands out – although it’s subtle and understated, to the point that it takes a few songs to realise what it is about their sound that’s so magic. No two ways about it, this is a gem of a band.

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Nature Kids

The Illness is not so much a band as a collective, and just as the album has a roll-call of guest contributors, so they present an ever-changing lineup on stage. There are never fewer than six of them, but sometimes as many as eight, and there is instrument and position-swapping galore, with vocal and bass duties switching all over.

Much of the time, they have three guitars, bass, drums… but there are some synths happening, and their sound is an immaculate blend of indie, prog, epic psychedelic space rock, all executed, if not with precision, then behind a curtain of shimmering sonic fireworks, from blooming roman candles to the spirals of Catherine wheels.

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The Illness

‘Speedway Star’ is the second song of the set, and it’s laid back but had a certain grip. The album version featured David Pajo, and the question keeps arising: how? Ultimately, it doesn’t matter: what matters is that their set – a mere forty-five minutes – is something special.

The final song of the night is a full-on motorik wig-out, and it’s absolutely magnificent, with two trilling synths and two guitars, it’s equal parts Stereolab and Early Years (do better comparison). Danny (Wolf Solent, etc, a man who’s essentially a one-man scene in York and who I gather is a late addition to the band’s lineup) , who’s been keeping restrained throughout goes all out with a blistering guitar workout

The Illness may be well under the radar and well underachieving – given their connections alone they ought to be massive, never mind the fact they’re uniquely brilliant – but perhaps that will change given the brilliance of the album and superb shows like this. The Illness are totally sick… right?

Watch: ‘Heimta Thurs’ by Wardruna

Posted: 17 January 2025 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
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Norwegian world music collective Wardruna release a live video for the song ‘Heimta Thurs’. The video is a part of the band’s Live at the Acropolis show, which will be released on DVD and Blu-Ray alongside Wardruna’s new album Birna on January 24th.

Originating from Wardruna’s debut album Runaljod – Gap var ginnunga, the song ‘Heimta Thurs’ has grown into one of the group’s most iconic songs and a fan favourite. Set against the backdrop of the world heritage site Odeon of Herodes Atticus, Acropolis, the composition and visual experience reach ecstatic new heights.

The connections between the old and ancient, deeply human and natural at the same time can be felt at every live performance of Wardruna, resounding equally on stage and throughout the audience. Live at the Acropolis is a testament to that.

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Photo credit: Sebastian LOM

CEL – Five minutes to self-destruct

Posted: 15 December 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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Gagarin Records – 6th December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

You might be hard-pressed to call CEL a supergroup, but Felix Kubin has been creating sound here, there, and everywhere for a long time now, and Five minutes to self-destruct is definitely a coming together of established creative forces, containing as it does five recordings of live tracks performed by longstanding Kubin and longstanding collaborator Hubert Zemler, remixed by Warsaw sound engineer Jan Wroński.

And the thing about creative collaborations is that they often rely on spontaneity, immediacy, the frisson between the individuals in proximity, feeding off one another in the moment. And so it is here, as the accompanying notes set out: ‘The expressiveness of these recordings is evident not only in their unbridled live energy, which can hardly be reproduced in the studio, but also in a musical nervousness that sets itself apart from the current wellness folklore of the modular community. The pieces gather in their DNA the paranoid plasma of cultural unease, chaos and upheaval.’

To make a small sidestep, we hear endless decrees that employees need to return to the office in order to foster the spirit of collaboration and all the rest. We know that this is bollocks, and is simply about working the instruments of control. Collaboration and the coalescence of energy for creative ends is not something which cannot be forced, and it happens, regardless of distance, time, and space, given the right connection and chemistry. Hearing the performances on Five minutes to self-destruct, it’s immediately apparent that this is not something that could ever be created by desire or will alone.

As the accompanying bio notes, ‘The expressiveness of these recordings is evident not only in their unbridled live energy, which can hardly be reproduced in the studio, but also in a musical nervousness that sets itself apart from the current wellness folklore of the modular community. The pieces gather in their DNA the paranoid plasma of cultural unease, chaos and upheaval.’

The title track ‘Five minutes to self-destruct’ is a quote from Michael Crichton’s sci-fi classic The Andromeda Strain, which describes a research team’s fight for survival against an accidentally triggered self-destruct mechanism, underpinned by trigger impulses and increasing panic.

My own experience of the modular community may not be on quite the same scale or the same higher circles as theirs, but it does feel primarily the domain of the middle-class, middle-aged white male these days, and there’s a certain air of ease and the satisfaction of hobbyism about it. Needless to say, not so here. There’s a tension that runs throughout the entirety of the release. ‘Krakenwaltz’ cartwheels and loops in jittery circles, head-spinning rhythmic cycles with no small degree of attack, with some sharp, aggressive snare sounds and a frenetic, frantic undercurrent which grows increasingly disorientating over its near-six-minute duration.

‘Eskalacja’ is dominated by hectic percussion and a whirl of fairground bleeps and toots running in ever-tighter concentric circles. It some respects, it calls to mind the frenzied looping and wild, vaguely manic excesses of early Foetus 12” singles, seeing just how far they can push the concept, and themselves in the creation of hyperactive sound.

The seven-minute ‘Blauer Dunst’ which sits as the album’s centrepiece marks a distinct shift in tone and texture, a rumbling dark ambient piece that invites comparisons to some of the more abstract works of Throbbing Gristle. It predates the rest of the set by almost four years, having been recorded in October 2020.

It’s back to more upbeat, stomping percussion-led synth work on the DAF-like ‘Neustart Generation’ – but don’t mistake upbeat for uplifting: it clatters and bangs with a clipped, regimented, Germanic feel, and the grooves are taut and tense, and it’s simmering tension which crackles beneath the lumping, shuffling, organic rhythms which underpin the sparse, tetchy title track. A couple of minutes in, a loping percussive cycle breaks out and the repetition of this and the dominant synth motif, amidst a swell of extraneous sounds – samples, sirens – makes this one of those tracks where you can feel your blood pressure increasing as it progresses and the pace quickens to a blur. It ends before reaching the point of inducing an aneurysm, and the assurance to the applauding audience, “We’re still alive, it’s ok,” at the fae injects some unexpected humour to proceedings.

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Fear of the Object – Leaves never fall in vain

Posted: 24 November 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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True Blanking – 1st December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

No-one will be surprised to learn that I spend little to no time listening to mainstream or chart music anymore. I say anymore, as growing up, this was my first access to music, just as it was for anyone else growing up in the 80s. Top of the Pops, the top 40 on a Sunday night on Radio 1, The Chart Show (which even had an ‘indie chart’ rundown)… This was a time when ‘alternative’ bands scored top 40 singles. People of a certain age always hark back to the revelation that was seeing Bowie perform ‘Starman’ on Top of the Pops, and seeing Marc Bolan. For me, I have formative recollections of Killing Joke on Top of The Pops… Divine… The Sisters of Mercy. I didn’t necessarily know what to make of these artists at first, but they made an impression. And after the Top 40 in a Sunday, there was the request show with Annie Nightingale, which played all kinds of stuff… and this was, I suppose, a route which led towards John Peel, reading Melody Maker… Now, to find anything different, outside of the mainstream takes effort – but equally, unless you’re already actively engaging with it, one has to actively seek it. Since The Internet became the dominant medium, terrestrial radio has seen its role and reach significantly diminished.

But from the little contemporary pop I have heard in recent years, I’m acutely aware of how songs have got shorter, how intros are abridged to the point of non-existence, how diving straight into the chorus as soon as possible is the objective. Delayed gratification? Forget it. Build-up? Huh? Albums?

Outside the mainstream, in evermore fragmented circles, artists have been pulling in the opposite direction. Albums designed to be played in sequence, containing songs with long intros and slow buildups are actually in favour.

Fear of the Object’s Leaves never fall in vain is an object which would likely strike fear into the heart of anyone unaccustomed to non-mainstream music. It’s a rumbling, dark ambient work, entirely devoid of beats, and almost of vocals (featuring as it does features the poem “Democracy Destruct” by David Henderson, produced by Kjell Bjørgeengen at Harmolodic Studios in 2003), and contains just the one track, which has a running time of over fifty minutes. There’s no ‘getting to the chorus’ on this epic slab of sonic abstraction.

Leaves never fall in vain, which takes its title from Japanese poet Chori (1739-1778), is a live recording, which documents a concert at Kunstneres Hus (Artists ́House) in Oslo October 2023. It features an expanded lineup, featuring original members Aimeé Theriot on electric cello and Ingar Zach on vibrating membrane/transducers, with the addition of Inga Margrete Aas on double bass. Not that you would know from the sound alone that there is a double bass in the mix – or indeed, any single, specific instruments. The instruments all melt together to create a free-flowing – or, perhaps more accurately, free-trickling – babble of sound, which is simultaneously busy, bubbling, with top-end activity frothing and scraping like a mountain stream, but with long, slow currents of droning mid-range flowing sedately beneath. There are passages where, perhaps, the sonorous tones of the cello are discernible, but in the main, it’s a conglomeration of sounds meshing together – layered, certainly ranging in tone and frequency, with a foam of treble which pressures the top-end of the aural spectrum at times, not to mention the nails-on-a-blackboard incidental scrapes. In places, the interweaving feedback takes on a texture like Metal Machine Music on heavy sedatives, and as much as the interplay between the performers is remarkable, so, it has to be said, is their patience. It takes a certain skill to hold your nerve and play a piece out like this. And the longer they maintain this slow-roiling, minimal-yet-dense drone, punctuated by occasional crackles and rips, the tenser it becomes.

Henderson’s poem arrives in the final minutes, a spoken-word piece which stands, stark, dry, crisp, and clear, and unaccompanied, after the instruments have died away and fallen to silence. It’s a powerful work in its own right, and placed as it is, hits with unanticipated impact. As the silence takes over the space occupied by sound for the best part of an hour, you’re left feeling affected, and somehow altered. The power of Leaves never fall in vain lies in is understatement, its subtlety. But also, its duration is a factor, being as if the entire track was an extended intro to the passage of poetry. Buildup, delayed gratification… alien to the attention-deficit age in which we live, Leaves never fall in vain stands out for existing in another world completely.

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Pound Land – Live At New River Studios / Worried

Posted: 9 October 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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Cruel Nature Records – 24th October 2024

Pound Land have become regulars here at Aural Aggravation, essentially because I absolutely love what they do and feel that it’s fitting use of the platform I have to broadcast the fact. They’re clearly not everyone’s proverbial cup of tea, with their overtly dour, dingy, misanthropic racket which provides the sparse backdrop to sociopolitical critique being presented with a grainy, lo-fi production which is absolutely guaranteed to ensure that they’re not going to be all over the radio, or even usurping the popularity of Sleaford Mods anytime soon, or ever. ‘Dour’ and ‘dingy’ hardly sound like strong selling points, but I’m clearly not alone in my appreciation of their work, and it’s been perversely satisfying witnessing the growth of both their reputation and audience.

But just to be absolutely one hundred per cent, cast-iron solid in guaranteeing this, their latest album is something of a twofer, a cassette release (of course) with a live set occupying the first side, and a single longform track in the shape of the half-hour long ‘Worried’ filling the other. It’s effectively Pound Land’s Ummagumma.

And while most bands who put out a live release pick recordings which are the most representative, while at the same time capturing them at their best – which is why a lot of live albums tend to be assembled from recordings made over the course of a whole tour, Pound Land are giving us a document of a one-off, as they write: ‘[It’s] a recording of the band playing live at New River Studios in North London in the summer of 2023. This was in the midst of a heatwave, without Nick on guitar, and joined by the good boss of South London DIY label Rat Run Records, Rob Pratt (who organised the gig and opened proceedings that night as his electronic alter-ego Entschuldigung). 35 minutes of dub-inflected psychedelic synth-soaked Pound Land has been captured, improvising through the heat and the alcohol, and laden with BBC Radiophonic-style special effects. Recorded by Tom Blackburn at the desk, then mixed by Tom and finally mixed and mastered by Nick Harris. This is Pound Land live as they’ve never sounded before (and possibly won’t again).’

Yes, it’s been mixed and mastered, but it’s essentially a warts-and-all document of a single moment in time.

Minus the guitar but with the addition of jittery sax, the bass-led rendition of ‘Violence’ reminds me rather of the Foetus track ‘Honey I’m Home’, which foetured on the live album Male and semi-official bootleg, with its simple, trudging chord sequence, especially with the drawling, thick-throated snarling vocal. Brutally atonal, it’s a hell of a set opener, and sounds like they’re on stage trying to see how many people they can drive out of the room in the first five minutes.

Single cut ‘Liar’ is a raw and raucous blast, motoric beats and monotonous bass groove laced with frenzied woodwind and a blitzkrieg of laser synths provide the sonic backdrop to Adam Stone’s ragged hollering, before they dig even deeper with ‘Flies’, which lands somewhere between The Fall and the Jesus Lizard. The eight-and-a-half-minute ‘Brain Driver’ is something of a standout: fully two minutes longer than the studio version, it’s a dirty, bassy, jazzy, reverby spaced-out journey through darkness.

And then there’s the new studio track on the reverse, which they describe as ‘a 30-minute-plus sonic odyssey’, expanding that ‘This mammoth audio-journey was the result of many months of hard work by Nick Harris, joined by Adam Stone on voice and guest-star Adam Pettis (ex-The Ofays/Fuck Fuck) from America, on guitar, electronics and vocals. Arguably some of the best production and sound work Nick / Adam have committed to tape.’

No argument there: it actually sounds produced (which is no criticism of their other work), and is an expansive and explicitly experimental piece with infinite layers of echo and delay giving this tense composition a dubby vibe. In the dark blend are elements of trip hop and late nineties / turn of the millennium apocalyptic hip-hop and nihilist No-Wave spoken word, plus tribal beats and a whole lot more, including a dash of Scott Walker and Suicide. The sound is cleaner – in that it’s not buzzing and fuzzed-out or breaking your guts with booming bass – but still murky, and treble tones and sibilant syllables in the vocals cut through it. It’s clearly a departure from their existing body of work but whether it marks the start of a new direction, or is, like the live set it’s being released with, a one-off, remains to be seen. Whatever happens next, this is a very different kind of offering from Pound Land, and one which proves they’re not moored to a fixed idea of what they are.

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Legion of Swine – Live at Plourac’h

Posted: 8 June 2024 in Albums, Reviews
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Dret Skivor – 7th June 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Legion of Swine trotted out for a few live exhibitions in the last few months, but Live at Plourac’h documents a show which was something of a one-off among these, with the performance having taken place in a studio (Soundfackery Studios in Brittany) and streamed live, followed by a Q&A, with audio from both featuring here.

Like many noise acts, T’ Swine tends to keep performances brief. The brevity is, in may respects, part of a tradition on the scene, and while Masonna’s explosive three-minute sets take this to an extreme – and why not? Noise is all about extremity, and finding new limits to push beyond. It’s all about the impact of the short, sharp, shock. Leave them wanting more – those who haven’t fled the room, hands clasped to their ears, while holding back the urge to vomit, anyway.

Even in the absence of the old performance aspects of Legion of Swine shows, whereby Dave Procter would be anonymous in a lab coat and latex pig mask, which means we get to witness the bearded, bespectacled northerner looking quite unassuming, sonically, LoS remains a formidable force.

Opening with strains of feedback and scratching buzzes of distortion, the set holds a single, undulating note of wailing, droning feedback noise for what feels like an eternity, the frequencies and tone changing but still offering nothing more than feedback for the first five minutes of the set. The level of strain and the tension builds, but still, holding back, holding back, testing the patience as well as the eardrums. To have been in a room with this, at gig volume would hurt. Then, unexpectedly, things drop in intensity, and it’s a heavy hum, a long, low, whine that nags and throbs.

As a noise sculpture, this is a restrained, patient piece which hovers within the parameters of a very limited range in terms of frequencies and particularly texturally, manipulating feedback in the mid- and lower-ranged for the bulk of the sixteen-minute duration.

Even recorded, with the separation from the actual event, the frequencies and volume are conveyed clearly here, and there’s a gut-trembling grind to the lower-end oscillations. The release notes summarise the kit as a ‘trusty metal roasting tin and a couple of effects pedals’, and whatever the truth of the facts around the gear involved – which I suspect would have been minimal – the racket created is significant.

There’s a long, long fade to nothing.

There is a certain amusement in the fact that the Q&A lasts twice the duration of the set itself. Dave speaks engagingly on the technical processes of his use of contact mics, and, yes a baking tin, and the mechanisms involved in changing pitch and creating feedback, and so on. It’s a nerdfest that Steve Albini would have been impressed by. He discusses room space, PA, body temperature. ‘Every time, it’s a different thing’, he says.

His recollection of room temperatures and their effect on sound is remarkable, and the dialogue is illuminating. Like so many noise artists, there is a yielding to the random, to circumstance, eventuality, accepting that no two performances will be alike as acoustics and the way sounds interact is spontaneous and unpredictable.

The interview is interesting and wide-ranging, but to discuss and dissect it at length here feels like a job for a longer, more academic discursion.

This is a niche release: that’s a given. Side one will inevitably receive more plays. But both warrant same time. Listen, and learn. Enjoyment is probably optional.

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Watch: ‘Tre Trigger Contro Tre Trigger’ by Khompa

Posted: 15 September 2023 in Recommended Streams and Videos
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Davide Compagnoni, aka ‘KHOMPA’, has been pushing musical boundaries since the release of his ground-breaking debut album, The Shape of Drums to Come in 2016, featuring an adventurous mix of drumming, electronics and cutting-edge drum triggering technology. The album, featured on Ableton Live and Modern Drummer, introduced this unique audiovisual live project, whose main elements are: a drummer, a conventional drum kit, 3 state-of-the-art drum sensors, a laptop and a stepsequencer. Each drum controls a virtual musical instrument (synthesizers, samplers, arpeggiators, etc.) within Ableton Live music software that, in combination with a custom stepsequencer developed with MaxforLive app, allows Davide to perform real melodies/electronic orchestration without the use of any backing track. 100% live. In addition to that, he also uses a microphone set up in the middle of the drumkit to capture the dynamics of the acoustic drums and translate them through ‘envelope followers’ into electronic parts in several ways.

KHOMPA’s second album, Perceive Reality, which followed in 2022, saw the further integration of audio and visual components, with AI-generated 3D visuals created by Riccardo Franco-Loiri (alias Akasha) all triggered and modulated live from the drumkit.

Tre Trigger Contro Tre Trigger is a companion piece to Perceive Reality, drawing on the same technology but venturing into a more trance-inducing territory, with oscillating synths snaking around a pulsating, primal drumbeat, rising in pitch to a cathartic peak.

The video for ‘Tre Trigger Contro Tre Trigger’ is a 100% live performance where all the sounds and visuals were triggered in real time with KHOMPA’s drum kit as a reflection of the punk/chaotic/hypnotic energy of the song. The piece is also the closing track of the live performance "Perceive Reality A/V" that the artist is currently playing in festivals, cinemas and clubs in Italy. In the video, words that seem to be extracted from a manifesto of perceptual dissociation bounce off the screen activated and distorted by the drum kit itself.

Watch the video for ‘Tre Trigger Contro Tre Trigger’ here:

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Abrasive Trees – Nothing Exists for a Second Moment

Posted: 18 July 2023 in Albums
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16th June 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

After a lengthy and sustained spell of creativity, dark Devonshire band Abrasive Trees are taking stock, reflecting and consolidating on their achievements to date, something which also affords newcomers an opportunity to catch up, March saw the release of Epocha, a compilation album which gathered their singles and EPs from 2019-2021, and now, housed in a sleeve which continues the thread of the design of its predecessor, they offer up a live album, which captures the band performing at hatch Barn, a venue close to their base in Totnes.

Live albums are notoriously tricky. So many live acts have an energy live that simply doesn’t translate when recorded. Then, at the opposite end of the spectrum, I recall meeting a metalhead in my first few weeks of university who was gushing in his enthusiasm for Iron Maiden “T’ Maiden” as he referred to them as being an amazing live as because “it sounds just like ont’ album”. This stuck with me, because I wasn’t accustomed to such thick Northern accents back then, and also because the idea of a live show so slick it sounded like the CD was a cause for consternation. Some people may think it’s a good thing, of course, but for me – even at the age of nineteen – it seemed to be missing the point of playing live. Especially when it’s a big band, who you’re likely to be watching on screens instead of looking at the stage. Might as well be watching a video at home for that.

Then there’s the recording itself: too much audience and it sounds like a shitty bootleg that’s as much that gobby tosser and his mate yammering away over the band; too hermetic and soundesky and it sounds dead and like there was no-one there, and all the vitality of the live experience is lost. This six-track release, once again mastered by Mark Beazely of Rothko, is magnificently realised: the sound is superbly crisp and clear – it’s obviously taken from the sound desk – but there’s a hum and a sense of space and audience, and it isn’t so clinical as to sound like another studio recording.

There’s irony in the title here: the live experience exists only in the moment, but here we are with a documents which gives us that second moment of existence. But of course, this is not the thing in itself, but a recreation, which captures only a part of it. Dimensions are missing: the sights, the ambience, and so on. This gives us not the full give experience, but an aural document of the band’s performance alone. They know this. We know this.

Four of the six tracks here are featured on Epocha in their studio forms, but the two mid-set songs, ‘Kali Sends Sunflowers’ and ‘Moulding Heaven With Earth’ are from the post-Epocha double-A-side single, and ‘Moulding Heaven With Earth’ is extended here from its near-six-minute form to almost eight her, making for a colossal centrepiece to the half-hour long set. Over its duration, the band sound solid, and assured, and they bring the detail of the studio recordings to their live show, with added dynamics and energy – the bass and drums in particular when they hit peak crescendo cut through in the way that only ever really happens live, and so it’s a credit that this release captures that energy.

The set opens with ‘Before’ from the Now You Are Not Here EP, and while abridged from its original six-and-a-half-minute sprawl to just three and a half, it conjures a magnificently atmospheric space, with chiming guitars, drifting ambient synth drones, hand-drums, and brooding sax, not to mention Easter-inspired vocalisations to build tension, and it segues into the ornate and delicate ‘Now You Are Not Here’ from the same EP, introducing vocals to the set, and finding the band at their most dramatic, evoking the quintessential goth sound from circa 1985-86. Mattthew Rochford’s voice quavers and you really feel as if you’re with him, teetering at the of the world… before the chorus-soaked maelstrom descends.

The soft swell of clean, reverby guitar on ‘Kali Sends Flowers’ is so very reminiscent of Wayne Hussey it sends an unexpected pang of nostalgia, echoing as it does both ‘Severina’ and the intro to ‘Deliverance’. But instead of Wayne’s overt drawing on Christianity in his lyrics, Abrasive Trees delve into other belief systems, and crash into some bold crescendos in the process.

The samples on ‘Moulding Heaven With Earth’ are studio-clear, without sounding at odds with the mix of the music itself, while the near note-perfect ‘Replenishing Water’ breathes deeper as the guitars burst through the air and it explodes into a monumental extended climax that’s absolutely killer and one hundred percent exhilarating. There is so much energy and life here. There is not much vocal, and for some reason this often takes me by surprise.

There isn’t much chat either, but then, on the evidence of this recording, Abrasive Trees’ set relies on building and maintaining tension rather than rapport.

‘Bound for an Infinite Sea’ begins with the crescendo and drives hard to an energetic, bass-driven finale, Rochford’s voice brimming with emotion – and delving into gloom before soaring into gripping tension – and it’s all of this and more that makes Nothing Exists for a Second Moment so great. It’s almost as if you were there, and very much wish you were, but Nothing Exists for a Second Moment achieves the rare feat of making you feel something almost like having been there, slipping a subliminal buzz in the process… It’s as close to a second moment as possible.

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Watch: ‘A Victory of Dakini (Live)’ by Sigh

Posted: 16 June 2023 in Recommended Streams and Videos
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Following the announcement of the band’s new live album, ‘Live: Eastern Forces of Evil 2022’ and first single ‘Mayonaka no Kaii’. The band have unveiled their next track to come off the live album ‘A Victory of Dakini’.

The track is taken from the band’s visionary album ‘Scorn Defeat’, which the band will be performing in full, later this year at the UK’s Damnation Festival. The track, reminds us of the band’s beginnings and explores their more primitive style that would come to progressive into the fully fledged Sigh sound we know now.

The song details the story of a Japanese goddess ‘Dakini’ that rides on a white fox, according to Buddhist religion. Kujaku-Ou is a Japanese manga published around 1988 – 1991 and in it featured a lot of oriental occultism and were often the inspiration behind Sigh’s early material. Originally Dakiki is a goddess from India that would eat human flesh, however in Japan she is considered to be the goddess of sexual lust.

Mirai elaborates below:

‘A Victory of Dakini" is the opening track of our debut album "Scorn Defeat". I believe the first track of the first album is something special for most bands, and this is true to our case, too. Of course the song is way more primitive and simpler than what we are doing today, but obviously it’s got a magic feeling, which we will never ever recapture. "Dakini" is a goddess riding on a white fox in Buddhism. I wrote this song inspired by a Japanese manga, "Kujaku-ou".

‘A Victory of Dakini’ kicks off the live performance with ominous chanting before Sigh’s signature Death Metal crawl begins, conjuring all manner of otherworldly entities. The song itself is a masterful blend of Japanese culture with angular Death Metal precision, a style that has only been improved upon with each release right up until 2022’s ‘Shiki’.

Watch the video here:

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