Tag: st. vitus

SHOW REVIEW: Brutus @ St. Vitus

On the one hand, it’s hard to imagine a better venue than Greenpoint mainstay St. Vitus for the stateside return of a band that integrates black metal, punk, and post-hardcore into their dizzying sound. But even if it seemed appropriate on paper, the stifling black box of  the venue was hardly enough to contain Belgian trio Brutus, whose towering sophomore effort Nest has easily placed them in the running for many a genre-spanning year-end list. Though the densely packed room and breakneck speed at which they played muffled some of the more dynamic qualities of their recorded output, there was no mistaking the explosive energy of drummer/vocalist Stefanie Mannaerts, guitarist Stijn Vanhoegaerden and bassist Peter Mulders. The force with which they played is practically begging for bigger rooms, better soundsystems, and longer sets allowed to linger beyond the neighborhood curfew.

Opening with atmospheric, disembodied synths, the band humbly took the stage and immediately launched in the slow-burning assault of opening Nest track “Fire.” Mannaerts’ drum kit was situated stage left, facing Mulders in the middle and Vanhoegaerden at house left; her mic was perched over her left shoulder, there to amplify her full-throated howls and yet somehow remain out of the way of her rapidly moving arms. She seemed to perform mostly from muscle memory, pounding out complicated blast beats and thrashing her cymbals as if her life depended on it. Her voice channeled “Human Behavior”-era Björk, the air pushing from her lungs in a raspy, desperate wail.

Vanhoegaerden was mostly stoic, focused on threading raw-nerved guitar through ominous bass and careening percussion; every so often, he’d wander toward Mannaerts’ kit, as if checking to make sure she wasn’t about to keel over from sheer exhaustion (incredibly, she showed little sign of fatigue). Mulders, meanwhile, hammed it up, throwing devil horns and sticking out his tongue after the band nailed more difficult stretches of music. It helped that he is comically tall – for those stuck in the bottleneck by St. Vitus’s soundboard, he was the only visible member of the band. The show was sold out, one of only a few U.S. dates the band had booked around their set at Austin’s Levitation showcase with Sargent House labelmates.

There wasn’t much banter between songs but Mannaerts in particular espoused her thanks at every opportunity – the band seemed truly blown away by the positive response to Nest, not just in the sold-out room, but the world over. After their Los Angeles show at The Echo, they posted a heartfelt message to fans on Facebook, saying, “When we started this band, we had no idea what it would bring for us. We had big dreams, and we thought we were ready. But we were not.” They went on to explain that Nest was written in the wake the initial success they experienced surrounding their debut LP Burst, “for our loved ones, left in the dark at home while we were on the road chasing this weird and unpredictable light.” It was certainly revelatory to bask it its glow, if only for a moment.

BRUTUS TOUR DATES:
11/17 – Mexico City, MX @ Corona Capital
11/24 – Berlin, DE @ Festaal Kreuzberg
11/25 – Köln, DE @ Stollwerck
11/26 – Amsterdam, NL @ Melkweg
11/28 – Leeds, UK @ University Stylus
11/29 – London, UK @ Electric Ballroom
11/30 – Paris, FR @ Le TrianoN
12/03 – Milan, IT @ Alcatraz
12/04 – Ljubljana, SI @ Kino Siska
12/05 – Munich, DE @ Backstage
12/06 – Vienna, AU @ Arena
12/08 – Warsaw, PL @ Progresja
12/14 – Brussels, BE @ AB Brussels (SOLD OUT)

LIVE REVIEW: The Glenn Branca Ensemble @ St. Vitus

glenn branca wearing glasses

Glenn Branca didn’t want people to dance to his music. “I want them to sit there and be blown away,” he once said in an interview. No one was seated at Brooklyn’s St. Vitus Bar on Sunday, where the Glenn Branca Ensemble played in tribute to the late composer, who died last year after a battle with throat cancer. But you’d be incorrect to call the crowd’s movement “dancing.” Dancing is not always an act of free-will, but it is fueled by more intention than involuntary spasms. Looking around, there was no way any of us were moving this way on purpose.

Having the ability to stand at the Glenn Branca Ensemble’s performance of The Third Ascension allowed for an entirely new interaction with Branca’s music. The event was held in conjunction with Branca’s final work—a 2016 live recording of The Third Ascension was released on Systems Neutralizers two days prior. The concert was held on what would have been Branca’s 71st birthday. Like the new record, it was made possible by his wife and longtime collaborator Reg Bloor, who has played guitar in Branca’s ensemble for years.

I’d only ever experienced Branca’s ensemble concerts sitting down. The chair felt like a safety seat on a rollercoaster, and it would have made sense if it was equipped with a metal bar to pull against your chest. Even sitting down, the music felt dangerous enough to eject you from your seat. Without this precaution, what might we be capable of? I feared (and maybe hoped) that the crowd would be whipped into a frenzy of id and alcohol, rushing the stage like a pack of feral animals.

This did not happen, likely because Glenn Branca was not conducting, and because it is no longer the 1970s. But what was particularly exciting was the potential energy threatening that it could happen at any moment. Seeing Branca’s work live is far more of a physical experience than just a sonic one. The music seems to reach from the speakers and slap you in the face, punch you in the gut, and pull out your still-beating heart Temple of Doom-style. It’s not just loud, it’s emotionally exhausting. After every song I drew a deep breath, sucking in oxygen and blasting out a big sigh. Each piece made me feel like I’d just had a long, drawn-out argument with my husband, and I don’t even have a husband.

Branca’s work, especially when played live at such extreme volumes, can at times sound like the mind tearing itself apart. There is a beautiful dissonance between the performers, very diligently reading their sheet music, and the unraveling effect their playing has on the psyche. Conductor Brendon Randall-Myers gave a spirited interpretation of Branca’s work that could be measured in ounces of sweat. The remaining ensemble followed suit, smiling widely when they weren’t grimacing from overexertion. In addition to playing The Third Ascension in its entirety, Randall-Myers led them through Branca’s 2016 Bowie eulogy “The Light (for David).” 

There was almost no talking between songs, save for logistical exchanges with the sound technician during tuning breaks. It was in those minutes that Branca’s presence was especially missed. These were the moments when you could really get a glimpse of Branca as a person—a wry, mischievous, and deeply funny human being who still loved what he was doing in a way that radiated through the room. “The only reason I even bother to pay the slightest attention to this fucking world, is because I love music,” Branca once said. “I love to write music, and I want people to hear the music. Otherwise, this fucking world is an utter waste of time.” Even in his absence, that love is still palpable.