Monday, 14 October 2019

Shitrockjournalist goes to a noise gig

So tonight I went to a noise gig at The Black Heart in Camden. 

I like the venue, and it's been a while since I've been to a gig here. But you're not here to reminisce with me. So here goes:


BeinE, like their full name Beinaheleidenschaftsgegenstand [Bein-a-hel-den-shafts-gegen-stand], are quietly terrifying. Quietly is probably the wrong word, but their performance is genuinely unsettling. It carries the kind of emotional weight of looped footage of a bridge jumper cut off just before impact.


Cementimental sounds like someone found a vcr of a robot orgy, and fastforwarded and rewound it with the sound on full blast until the tape unspooled as one final glorious moneyshot. Also, during the soundcheck, I felt a bit sick. Which tells you the music is definitely heavy enough.


Some days you have to ask yourself, "What if Gabber was devotional music?" And Monad would answer, after calling you a pretentious cunt and laughing at you until you cry into your IPA. A breakcore remix of Sandstorm blasts out of the speakers and you realise that no amount of your own pretentious bollocks could stop you smiling at this. Cheer up and have a listen. Also... Duke Nukem samples. For fans of Karkasaurus and other very fast, very silly things.


Lower frequencies can lull you into a false sense of security. I come back into the room as Wolvestribe are kicking off. This is fierce in an odd horror film dream sequence way. You know that nightmare where you're running but somehow not moving? Then you look down and Freddy Kreuger's sliced your legs off? That's what Wolvestribe sound like. Radio static from a numbers station where the encoded message is an instruction to the serial killer who's been stalking you for half a Netflix series only to disappear into the shadows of a cliffhanger ending.

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