In a little Manchester club on Tuesday night, several extremely talented musicians proved conclusively that vocals are far from mandatory in great rock music.
Texas quartet This Will Destroy You were the top draw in a bill of frighteningly exhilarating, instrumental post-rock acts. M6 traffic meant I missed Lancashire-based openers Charlieshero, but their myspace suggests a promising, gently angular addition to the genre.
The Music Box, just up from Oxford Road and boasting great acoustics and ridiculously expensive alcholic beverages, felt like far too small a venue for such epic, galaxy-straddling music.
As a relatively recent devotee to the world of spiralling, effects laden guitars, brooding bass and icy melodicism, it was interesting to glance around the 80 or so other punters, trying to ascertain what kind of demographic the bands on show appealed to.
The answer is: anyone and everyone. Cute indie-ish couples, a few older guys with beards, pretty student girls, and a few groups like ours, of fairly uncategorisable lads. The average age was probably in the early 20s. Progressive rock is not just for grizzled old Floyd devotees anymore.
Maybe that's because this is not music that looks inwards, but to the heavens. Each piece is layered and developed beautifully, evoking everything from intense drama to starry-eyed serenity. And most of all, even more than the best produced pop music, these acts SOUND amazing. The instrument tones are finely perfected to arouse the highest sense of emotion and elation.
Each of the acts I saw had a clearly distinct ethos, however. Codes In The Clouds - from Dartford, Kent - boasted an ebullient array of revolving riffs, pushing each song higher and higher. At one point it seemed like every progression your ear might wish for, or even imagine, was fulfilled just seconds later. They were excellent.
Another Texan band, mom, are traversing Europe with TWDY, and were radically different from the other acts on show. With just a double bass, violin, and drum machine, they weaved ethereal, frozen folk across the assembled throng, like Sigur Ros around a snow-hole campfire. While less brain-frazzlingly engaging than the other acts, they kept the embers red for the main event.
This Will Destroy You are a fantastic band. Clearly heavily influenced by Explosions In The Sky, they nonetheless fashion a sonic template endowed with considerably more direction, clarity, and power. 'Burial On The Presidio Banks', 'Threads', and the oddly named 'The World is Our ___' best showcase their stately genius.
The one odd thing was that, having purchased a rather fetching, intriguingly designed tshirt from a beardy guy at the merch stand before the gig, I later realised he was the band's lead guitarist. It had been troubling me that I could only see three of the band on stage, and that I could not trace the origin of the soaring lead lines I was hearing. Assuming, with some disappointment, that TWDY were using samples, it was not until I altered my vantage point slightly that I realised said beardy guy was sitting on a chair on the far side of the stage, expertly picking out chiming tunage.
Give the post-rock a go, kids. Life's not all Rihanna and Hadouken!
The Music Box, just up from Oxford Road and boasting great acoustics and ridiculously expensive alcholic beverages, felt like far too small a venue for such epic, galaxy-straddling music.
As a relatively recent devotee to the world of spiralling, effects laden guitars, brooding bass and icy melodicism, it was interesting to glance around the 80 or so other punters, trying to ascertain what kind of demographic the bands on show appealed to.
The answer is: anyone and everyone. Cute indie-ish couples, a few older guys with beards, pretty student girls, and a few groups like ours, of fairly uncategorisable lads. The average age was probably in the early 20s. Progressive rock is not just for grizzled old Floyd devotees anymore.
Maybe that's because this is not music that looks inwards, but to the heavens. Each piece is layered and developed beautifully, evoking everything from intense drama to starry-eyed serenity. And most of all, even more than the best produced pop music, these acts SOUND amazing. The instrument tones are finely perfected to arouse the highest sense of emotion and elation.
Each of the acts I saw had a clearly distinct ethos, however. Codes In The Clouds - from Dartford, Kent - boasted an ebullient array of revolving riffs, pushing each song higher and higher. At one point it seemed like every progression your ear might wish for, or even imagine, was fulfilled just seconds later. They were excellent.
Another Texan band, mom, are traversing Europe with TWDY, and were radically different from the other acts on show. With just a double bass, violin, and drum machine, they weaved ethereal, frozen folk across the assembled throng, like Sigur Ros around a snow-hole campfire. While less brain-frazzlingly engaging than the other acts, they kept the embers red for the main event.
This Will Destroy You are a fantastic band. Clearly heavily influenced by Explosions In The Sky, they nonetheless fashion a sonic template endowed with considerably more direction, clarity, and power. 'Burial On The Presidio Banks', 'Threads', and the oddly named 'The World is Our ___' best showcase their stately genius.
The one odd thing was that, having purchased a rather fetching, intriguingly designed tshirt from a beardy guy at the merch stand before the gig, I later realised he was the band's lead guitarist. It had been troubling me that I could only see three of the band on stage, and that I could not trace the origin of the soaring lead lines I was hearing. Assuming, with some disappointment, that TWDY were using samples, it was not until I altered my vantage point slightly that I realised said beardy guy was sitting on a chair on the far side of the stage, expertly picking out chiming tunage.
Give the post-rock a go, kids. Life's not all Rihanna and Hadouken!
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