This should have been, I think, Kwoon’s gig. They are the touring band, over from France for their first ever Scottish show, and the main reason for me being here. I’ve been waiting a long time to see Kwoon. A very long time.
But.
Their position as headliner has been usurped, it would appear, by Billy Ray Osiris. The Edinburgh/Glasgow based 5-man improv noise terrorists and their label, Good Grief, are using this gig to launch their new cassette EP, Tentacles of Doom. And why not? However, a vague but ambitious idea has acquired an unstoppable momentum, and has turned a convenient marketing opportunity into an EVENT. Yes. An upper case EVENT. More of which later.
First, a quick note regarding the topography of Bar Bloc for those of you unfamiliar with its layout. This information is significant, but not vital. You can skip if you want.
Bloc is a pub. It is divided, by a few steps and a timber balustrade, into two parts – the bar area and a raised area for band and audience. Both areas are more or less the same size. The raised area is big enough for the band, sound desk and perhaps 40 or 50 spectators. Bear this in mind.
But first, our opening act. Jonathan Snee, a solo singer/songwriter with an acoustic guitar. Looks a bit like an angry tattooed Jesus. Which is a bit ironic, really, as he sings passionately sad songs about ‘love and death in a godless universe’. I have the impression that Snee and Jesus (and his Dad) would find little common ground. Anyway, Snee sings well and plays well, and stamps his feet hard. Fine stuff.
So. Kwoon. Please bear in mind, here, that I love Kwoon. I’m here to see Kwoon. It’ll take a fuck-up of enormous proportions for me to give Kwoon a bad review.
Doesn’t happen.
Kwoon play a 60 minute set of glorious post-rock infused songs. Songs with proper words. Songs with gentle, delicate passages, tremolo guitars and swelling crescendos, front-man Sandy’s wispy, breathy vocals complementing all perfectly. They play songs from all three of their albums. They play ‘Schizophrenic’. They play a trio of ‘Wark, ‘Emily Was a Queen’ and ‘Last Trip of a Drunken Man’ from The Guillotine Show. They play an utterly, utterly gorgeous pairing of ‘I Lived on the Moon’ and ‘Blue Melody’ from their 2006 debut, Tales and Dreams. I’m 54 years old, with a shaved head and tattoos, and ‘I Lived on the Moon’ actually brings me to tears, and I’m not ashamed to admit it (it’s 2 days later, as I write this, and I’m still swooning like some dopey fangirl as I remember those two…). ‘Great Escape’ next, and then the epic instrumental finale of ‘Aryon Norya’, ten minutes of jaw-dropping joy, from its truly beautiful opening passage to its colossal soaring climax.
Kwoon’s crowd is, perhaps, a little sparse, and that’s a shame, but the applause they get is genuine and enthusiastic. Rarely, for me at least, has an hour passed so quickly and so perfectly.
And so. The EVENT.
Billy Ray Osiris (hereafter referred to as BRO, because I’m inherently lazy) are, usually, a five-piece, improvisational noise-rock band. Tonight, however, they are appearing as the Billy Ray Orkestra (also BRO, conveniently), having recruited members of Young Philadelphia, Thin Privilege, Shudder and Johnathan Snee. There are thirteen of them. Four drummers. Seven guitars. One bass. One lap-steel. A wall of amps. They fill the upper level of Bloc. Completely. This is going to be special, one way or another.
And so it is.
It’s hard to describe exactly what happens next. BRO is everywhere. The lighting is sporadic, mostly dark, and there’s a fair bit of smoke in the air. A din of tuning noises gradually coalesces into something more coherent, and they have started. Guitarist Hamish Black seems to be directing things with hand gestures, glances and nods. The four drummers – and please bear in mind here that they have only rehearsed this once – are MOSTLY keeping up with each other, and everything else develops into a pulsing, throbbing, kraut-rockish kind of beast. There isn’t any real melody to it, it’s all noise and rhythm. It’s a work in three movements, titled ‘Alienating Half the Audience (2 into 4 into 8)/Wet Wet Wet Tape/Satanic Desmond Tutu'. It’s a bruising and bewildering thing, and it is actually quite awesome.
Snapshots:
Drummer Stewart McLachlan punching his drums.
Guitarist Hamish primal screaming.
Guitarist Niall Sinclair smashing his face into the wall of amps.
Lap steel man Jonathan Snee flailing his instrument around his head and shoulders.
Drummer Sean Campbell carrying a floor tom around like someone from a marching band.
Guitarist David Scott lying on the floor clutching his head.
Drummer Grant Donaldson stabbing one of his drums to death with a drumstick.
Bassist Stewart Allan throwing down his bass and kicking it across the floor.
And then it’s over, a half hour holocaust of feral noise ending on one final Hamish Black scream and a single drum beat. I have no idea how they managed to keep it all together, but they did, more or less. The audience down in the bar area seem to be unsure of what they have just seen. The applause is a mix of wild enthusiasm and confused politeness. BRO look shattered, heads down and instruments just dropped to the floor. There is a lot of sweat. Me? I’m grinning.
After it’s all done, I overhear Hamish describing the show as his ‘most cathartic ever’ and, yes, I can believe that. Witnessing it was an experience to savour, so what it was like to take part in I can only guess. But ‘cathartic’ sounds about right.
So, whichever band is, was, or should have been the headliner, this is unquestionably one of the finest gigs I have been to this year. Kwoon were devastating and beautiful, BRO were devastating and ugly. I now have an 80 mile drive home, and I won’t get to bed until 3:00am, but I’d do it again. Right now.
