"Punters lurch forward from the balcony booths as if they've put their life savings on an outside-chance racehorse."
There are the most severe roadworks ever occurring (bulldozers and all) directly out the front of Webster Hall. Pop that in the, 'That would never happen where I'M from' file!
The Hall's upper tier is separated into booths, a fact that you would never deduce from the stalls. Battles start off sounding like electronic popcorn. Then the drum beat kicks in and, although we are really peaking already, it's a tad clunky. They immediately pick it back up again, though, procuring 'five second rule' privileges. And then Battles totally hit their stride; the bolts and screws become a cog and away we go. In come vocals like some kind of cosmic intervention as if we weren't interplanetary enough already. Battles now sound like watching corn popping after dropping acid.
Battles drummer John Stanier also pounds for Helmet. 'Nuff said. Until you hear the pace of those high-perched cymbals, which break the speed barrier. Plus, forget Whiplash, Stanier is a cat o' nine tails on crack. One of his bandmates (sorry, can't see at this point) says of Dave Konopka, who crouches on the ground twiddling knobs, and swaying back and forth: "We got him because he's handsome, but his bass playing is a therapy session for your soul." And then there's the final Battler, Ian Williams, who plays keys with one hand, guitar with the other - WHAT!?
Still can't see, but am definitely invested; one of the Battles dudes explains their usual demographic is 90 percent male, before exclaiming: "Forget 'Free The Nipple', this is bring back the woman!" Tonight is the last show of an extensive US Battles tour, plus it's in the band's hometown. (Although they get heckled for this because apparently Williams is Pennsylvanian.) Then out come sleigh bells, the reigns of which could only be operated by the most hipster of Santas. Sometimes Battles as brutal as Marilyn Manson's The Beautiful People but with a tweak of Willy Wonka - sounds wrong, but it's never been so many tiers of right! Punters lurch forward from the balcony booths as if they've put their life savings on an outside-chance racehorse.
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Atlas, that song that made everyone take notice of Battles: it sounds like a calliope falling down a hill, but you just can't goddamn help but dance to it! The song shouldn't work and goes off kilter sometimes, but when it locks in no other tune could come close; a risky undertaking that creates a level of excitement sadly missing from live music these days.
The music of Battles is a head-caving, but well-educated, Munterland we all wish we could inhabit. Familiar with their artwork? Well what does it sound like? Exactly! All you need is the great outdoors to make this evening equal perfect sonic appreciation. Oh, hang on (although they're more likely to say 'Hold up!' over here), did someone say Laneway 2016!