Without words and without safety nets, Mogwai are can still pack the London Astoria two nights on the trot? How do they do it? James Berry has the answers …
03/11/2003
We don’t like change. Only when there is none we inevitably lament its absence, as if the flipside is always worth aspiring to more. Long gone are times when these bullish Scottish post-rockers struck you between the eyes like a spitting Mount Vesuvius jutting crudely into a pastel mainstream. They got bundled on tour with the Manics like some credible accessory, threateningly adorned the covers of the national press and infamously declared Blur (the symbol of creative Britain to some, then at least) shite. Enough time has passed in fact to have them proved right there. 2003 may have seen them release their most realised work yet in ‘Happy Songs For Happy People’, but there are no proxy associations now, no magazine covers, less chances for a band defined by their erupting instrumental soundscapes to become characterised by what’s said off the record.
On stage they remain men of impressively few words. Stuart Braithwaite does say something towards the end of the set, but it’s a clumsy pile up of Glasweigan syllables hardly aided by the muggy acoustics, and remains an utter mystery to us. Only now their mute form of expression is almost echoed back at them. The clamour has died down, there’s nobody climbing the walls tonight or gasping for breath amid oversubscribed expectation. Some might have you believe that this change is down to their lack of it, but they’d only be partially right. They may not have crushed feeble indie to dust, brought about a revolution or even summoned the apocalypse, and those with Y2K attention spans might have lost interest, but they’ve ploughed on regardless and remain every bit as important, maybe more so. And they can still fill the Astoria two nights on the trot.
It’s a comforting confirmation that rock music can itself be rapt, and can be provocative rather than just being powerful, even without words. And it can allay you fears by interpreting them and reflecting them back at you with understanding. It’s a safe haven, and with guarantees of exorcism to boot. And for this they are rewarded with an enthralled and participating audience, respectful of their quiet moments and vocally supportive of their often complex changes of tack. As over the past two albums they’ve gained an increased competence in blending their intricacies, and extending their quiet/loud remit, they’ve not only emulated this in the live arena but given it an increased vibrancy too. ‘Ratts Of The Capital’ from ‘Happy Songs…’ builds particularly monumentally and sounds at the time at least like the most incendiary thing they’ve ever done, and ‘2 Rights Make 1 Wrong’ from ‘Rock Action’ ends the main set with a deep, satisfying, multi-layered, electronically-laced, thickly woven blanket of sound.
But the bursts of sound they’ve been hauling round for years still do the job too, not letting you down despite the time passed that could have allowed that to happen, especially considering their recent strides forward. ‘Mogwai Fear Satan’ and ‘Ithica 27Ø9’, not to mention the beastly ‘Helicon 1’ and ‘Ex-Cowboy’ still flatten the ground around them and leave you gratifyingly winded. They entwine the best from across their career tonight into frankly the single most satisfying set this scribe has seen them do. With all the many sides to their solid musical polygon they’re like Gulliver darning one of the little people’s socks, such proficient slight of touch, such omnipresent might. They have all bases covered, they are the firmest of their ilk and even if they don’t change their direction they never change their pace. It’s only those around them that really change, but if they’re not going to offer up a challenge what else is a superior musical titan to do?
Relevant Sites:
www.mogwai.co.uk/
James Berry for Crud Magazine 2003©