the pulsation began even before the members of mogwai took the
stage at the bowery ballroom on thursday. at first, the fundamental vibration
took the shape of a recorded loop of a crashing hi-hat cymbal. soon, the
guitarists stuart braithwaite and john cummings massaged the strings of their
instruments to life, and the pulse expanded.
eventually it fused their ringing chord progressions to the
beats of a live drummer, martin bulloch and the thumping basslines of dominic
aitchison. another guitarist, barry burns, added more resonant layers. subtle
electronic effects filled in any space that might have remained as the music crashed
to its climax, a sonic heart attack. then the noise subsided, but the pulse
remained, inextinguishable.
mogwai, a young, basically instrumental scottish quintet, uses
the technology of rock music to explore specific ideas about the effects of
amplified sound. their approach has clear antecedents: the music of avant-gardists
like lamonte young, art rockers like robert fripp and brian eno, and post-punk
psychedelic bands like spacemen 3 and sonic youth.
instead of using electric guitars, amplifiers and synthesizers
to flesh out conventional songs, these artists focus on the specific
properties such tools give music. they revel in sustained chords, in startling dynamic
shifts, and in the strange noises that result when instruments are used
''improperly.''
at the bowery ballroom, mogwai demanded patience and attention
as the players carefully constructed their soundscapes. the music often dropped
to levels so quiet that the chatter in the back of the club threatened to
overtake it. (the offending schmoozers were sternly shushed by more attentive
fans.) as each piece built, the tempo and the dynamics would shift in micromovements
until, in most cases, a rousing heavy-metal crash filled the room.
influences surfaced here and there; some chord progressions
recalled nirvana, others neil young, others the composer john adams. when mr.
brathwaite shoved drumsticks beneath the strings of his guitar to create a din, he
reached all the way back to a touchstone he, as a hip post-rocker, might not
relish: jimmy page of led zeppelin bowing his guitar.
yet mogwai's general refusal to indulge in noodling
histrionics showed an admirable willingness to value the overall effect of each piece
over flashy moments. such restraint allowed listeners to hear more subtle
connections among the players, as each introspectively followed a cadence that
inevitably linked him to the others. without offering any startling insights into
rock's physical properties, mogwai gracefully guided its audience to the music's
humming core.
