(((O))) Live: The Body + Dis Fig – Room 2, Glasgow

Tucked off an alleyway near one of Glasgow’s main shopping routes, Room 2 has a faint air of mystique about it – a sense of disbelief that you could walk past it daily for weeks and never realise it was there. In its defence, it is one of the city’s more recently opened venues and doesn’t have a huge track record of known artists taking to the stage there, but with the highly-anticipated meeting of Rhode Island sonic terrorists The Body and Berlin-based noise/electronica producer and performance artist Felicia Chen a.k.a. Dis Fig taking place tonight, it is already starting to show potential as a home for underground sounds.

First up, though, it’s the turn of local noise rock trio Civil Elegies to give the speaker-system a good workout. Their set starts off at a measured, deliberate pace, Hamish Black’s voice coming out as a series of low, unassuming moans that briefly rise in a hint of the violence to come before levelling out. He and Kyalo Searle-Mbullu work in tandem to create a bath of noise that simmers with tension, slowly building up waves of distortion and rhythmic dissonance, and though it takes less than five minutes for that escalation to peak, it feels like an eternity.

The sharp snare-rattle of Grant Donaldson marks  the beginning of Civil Elegies operating at peak violence, and it’s something of a marvel to watch. Black and Searle-Mbullu work as contrasting halves of a whole; Searle-Mbullu tightly focused as he carefully constructs sonic towers of increasing complexity and delicacy, while Black howls and screams with desperate anguish, erratically stalking the stage and approaching his guitarwork like a swordsmith, using brute force and learned technique to craft something masterful. Donaldson pins the whole thing together, his sense of rhythm unorthodox but impeccable, and given his fluidity in switching from deft cymbal flutters to tight punk-inflected battering, he is an essential component in this twisting, jagged but utterly compelling noise-rock juggernaut.

Collaborations are such a fascinating thing in general. Sometimes they’re a long-awaited meeting of minds resulting in a glorious fusion of styles, at others a chance for two artists to act on a shared interest that they might not have the opportunity to otherwise explore. Occasionally they’re just a mess. For Dis Fig and The Body, it felt like fate; two artists known for their exploratory and uncompromising nature finally converging for one gorgeous, undefinable work. The chance to hear it in person, therefore, was always going to be stunning.

For The Body’s part, it’s the chance to see a new side of them. Not only is drummer Lee Bufford not present but Chip King is operating sans guitar, instead working solely with electronics for tonight’s set. This leaves much of the performance’s impact resting on Dis Fig, who wastes little time in absolutely dominating the stage. Her voice has a power and range that is impossible to truly capture on record, inducing chills as she slides into a near-religious chant on ‘Back To The Water’ while ‘Orchards Of A Futile Heaven’ presents her at her most infectious, delivering a powerful hook as King howls desperately behind her. Her electronic contributions are likewise potent, sharp bursts of noise and dissonance that capture her spirit and intensity.

Although Buford isn’t here, his replacement [Zac Jones] captures his spirit perfectly, providing a sense of raw, primordial power that strives to match that of Dis Fig’s pipes. The way he attacks the skins is just punishing and it stands in contrast to King, whose approach to electronics is simply impeccable. Though better known for his unrestrained nature, this presents him as a master of his craft, delicately constructing desolate and haunting soundscapes, piece by piece, with minute control; and even his distinct howls come from a distance, holding back from the mic and letting the air work as a natural filter to better serve the set’s unique atmosphere.

Mesmerising and surprisingly physical, not only in the intense kit-pounding but also Dis Fig frequent mingling with the crowd – draped over the barrier and clinging to people’s skulls as her own intensity threatens to get the better of her – this set delivered everything that it promised, and more. It’s a performance that doesn’t serve to replicate or overshadow the work that they had already created, but rather presents it in a new light, its power delivered with a mix of poise and punishing intensity. If you get the chance to see this, just go; if you don’t, at least Orchards Of A Futile Heaven will exist as testament to this striking collaboration.