As the third song started, just after playing for nearly an hour, the venue’s AC kicked back on. It wasn’t to be a sweat lodge like the infamous 2010 show at The Middle East where temps were roasting. My friend and I were hoping tonight’s Monday night show wouldn’t be a repeat of the 2011 show at the same venue, when the band finally got on stage at 11PM and played until 1AM. Attending a Swans show is always filled with a sense of suffering for one’s pleasure.
Now in his seventies, Michael Gira has been terrorizing eardrums for over four decades now. A true cornerstone of the NYC noise rock scene, they were famously described in a Trouser Press record guide as something you’d enjoy if you like banging your head against a pool wall, underwater. (From memory, don’t sue me if i botched some of the wording).
There was plenty of volume as one expects at a Swans show, but for the last two tours Gira has ditched his black Lucille with all the dials taped shut into place for an acoustic guitar. Don’t expect a Starbucks fireside folk session; the rest of the band commands serious waves of sonic exultation, anchored by Gira’s stentorian vocals.
Gira has said that this version of Swans is coming to an end; he’s tinkered with the band’s membership since reactivating in 2010 after ending the Angels Of Light project but the core of pedal steel guitar foil Kristoph Hahn, drummer Phil Puleo and bass player Chris Pravdica remained constants in the lineup throughout this phase of Swans’ career. It was also great to see longtime Swans member Norman Westberg back on guitar, as he was absent for the US shows last tour but did open for the European tour.
Big swells of crushing sound were the norm, mainly fueled by Pravdica’s insistent bass lines that formed the bedrock where Hahn and Dana Schecter’s pedal steel guitars created supersonic static blasts that careened around the room. Bad Seed drummer Larry Mullins chipped in via a variety of ways, with keyboards, what looked to be analog synths and occasional percussion, and Schecter played bass alongside Pravdica a few times.
True to form, Gira and band filled half of the two hour set with songs that have yet to be released. As this rendition of the band is closing, it will be interesting to see how these songs take final form on what I assume is the next record. Alternately scowling at his band members while conducting them, a few smiles did break through the furrowed brow and downturned lips over the night. A rapturous evening, surprisingly filled with kids who probably weren’t even in kindergarten when My Father Will Guide Me up a Rope to the Sky heralded Swans’ return. Here’s looking forward to the next form this pummeling shapeshifting musical endeavor takes on.
Opening duties were handled by Little Annie and Paul Wallfisch. There was a geniune throwback feel to their enjoyable set, like you were watching a cabaret act at 1:30 AM in Manhattan, sometime in the post-war era. Annie was battling a slight cold and a thoughtful audience member handed her a small packet of tissues, which she was thankful for. Her dusky voice was a perfect complement to Wallfisch’s (also a Swans alum) electronic keyboard work, and the cover of “Perfect Day” was a sweet and knowing nod to her hometown of NYC.
