Neurosis is an exacting band. So exacting that after every song the quintet played, the lights onstage would go dark and the three guitarists at the front of the stage would spend an uncomfortably long stretch of time tuning their instruments before launching into another psych-metal epic. So exacting that every move Noah Landis made — from hitting a synth pad with a drumstick or playing two notes on his keyboard — looked like it took every bit of his concentration to pull off. So exacting that when someone or something caused Steve Von Till’s microphone to get knocked over, you would have thought someone had stolen a guitar pedal from him. He spat and swore and looked completely off-put for far longer than anyone should in such a situation.
That kind of attitude works for Neurosis. Their music is so tightly wound that to let one little sound or step slide would cause the entire edifice to come crumbling down around them. The result wasn’t a staid, mannered set, surprisingly. The volume and intensity that all five men brought to the music burst forth more strongly than those darkened moments while the audience waited for the group to start up once again.
The long tune-ups that we had to endure might also have been a result of a new austerity the band is exhibiting now. Two years ago when Neurosis played the same venue as part of MusicFest NW, they had an elaborate visual presentation with them and tore through the show like the quick swing of a katana. With no bells and whistles and no guitar techs to hand instruments off to, all that was left were the five players and their slow-boiling musical fury. Nothing was lost as a result other than a few extra minutes of sleep by the time we made it home, dizzy and deliriously blissed-out from the show.