thanks to travis

support from ganger

review, from 'kerrang' magazine

the Glaswegian post-rockers' first foray into the US. The New wave of no wave; or whatever it is they're calling it these days, is in full swing, and precious little Mogwai are standing dead centre. As a packed LA club of post-rockers and post-rollers whoops and hollers, Glasgow's finest amble onstage wearing unpretentious grins. "Good Evening", welcomes front-man Stuart Braithwaite, his voice polite and demure. But Mogwai's grins soon disappear. With three guitarists, a bare-foot bass loon (Dominic Aitchison), and a jazz-influenced drummer, this young team of skronk-meiters slowly churn out the aptly-titled 'Mogwai Fear Satan'. The music instantly goes from serene to stormy, becoming progressively nastier with every passing second. Without warning, guitarist Barry Burns picks up a flute, trilling the instrument delicately, seemingly obliviously to the racket behind him. An interesting start.

While this is all quite good for a song or two, by the time the Scots have swelled and surged into the fifth straight, narcoleptic shuffle consisting of quiet-to-loud-to-quiet dynamics and hushed repeated patterns, the Mogwai formula is laid bare. People start to drift out of the club after an hour of this, but these sensitive souls miss a devastingly brilliant 'Like Herod'. This closing assault, with its yawning canyons of noise, underwater-sounding guitars and Sonic Youth-styled discordance, is utterly stunning. The frailest of the remaining stragglers plant their fingers in their ears to ward off the din.

It might not have been the most consistent performance, but even bright young noiseniks can have an off-night.

(Joshua Sindell)

thanks to lianne for passing this on.