Godspeed You! Black Emperor / Total Life
The Bottletree Cafe; Birmingham, AL
I arrive at 8:33 PM, hoping to beat out the crowd. Of course, the crowd is the standard beer-chugging, college/post-college-yet-still-affiliating-with-undergrads types and the ilk. I’m immediately struck by the oddly festive air in the room. Inappropriate emotion for the occasion? Bottletree’s David Lynch-borrowing theme also adds to the incongruous atmosphere. What was I expecting? Surely they all know that a reckoning is upon us? Complete abysmal despair is what we’re waiting for… Then I wonder, has Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s reputation preceded them? The line from Pineapple Express comes to mind: Is Godspeed just a go-to band? I’m getting anxious.
A Krautrock documentary plays on a screen that blocks the band’s equipment. Foreshadowing, fitting, and telling. There’s a Krautrock playlist playing as well: Faust, Can, Ashra, Kraftwerk, etc. At least the venue is alluding to our end.
Soon, a drone overtakes the room. The crowd is perplexed. Eventually, they settle. The drone rises and the room begins to vibrate. Tones modulate continuing to rise. No sign of the opening act yet. Interesting.
The drone becomes frantic after a while, clustering, pulsating. Still the room sits unaffected, or patient, maybe. “Godspeed will arrive soon?” they wonder. The drone drops, glitches, but continues on all the stronger. Still no sign of the opener. The only form of life on stage is a lamp, emitting blue light. More tones, more frantic. Higher tones. Piercing, domineering, ear-splitting. The weight of the abyss? Stage lights up for a moment, then quickly goes out. People begin to cover their ears or chin stroke. Frankly, I’m frightened. This has gone on for about 30 minutes at this point. When the drone sustains for a while, the crowd parts… I see the noise maker. Opening act Total Life. No one even looks his way. He skulks off without a word.
Godspeed arrives, sophisticated. They take their places, tune. Projected blurred images are cast over them. After about 10 minutes of a droning build, a train appears on the screen. The band mimics the sounds of a train: bowing cymbals, beating the violin strings with a kind of stick. No one is impressed. Then they drop the weight of god upon the audience. The full band shoots through the opening track of the new LP. It’s gorgeous and overwhelming.
After the show, the band leaves the stage politely waving. A few shout out, everyone else heads for the bar. My eyes are wet.
[Photo: Justin Lynham]