A Cheery Wave from Stranded Youngsters

Inspiration manifests itself in many different forms: sunshine hitting your face while you’re riding Metro, walking amongst evergreens on an overcast day or even finding out about the wonders of barley wine. The list of inspirational events is endless and it varies depending on who you’re talking to and what day it is. Lately I’ve found myself living without a whole lot of inspiration; therefore I’ve been reluctant to give the Lodge a heavy dose of narrative prose that is until I found the universal inspiration last night: live music.

I’ve wanted to write about this band since I started this forumn, but never really had a good reason to do so, until last nights gig at the Showbox. First, you have to understand the country, then you have to understand the club . Finally, you have to get a little pop/punk ethic from a certain 1984 cult-classic if you mix that all together you get one of the greatest bands of the last decade: Mogwai.


My first Mogwai experience happened after I met up with some old friends from back in the Levee City or the 504. The power of word of mouth finally hit me, and the only reason that I’m even writing this is because of the memorable name, not the sound. It wasn’t until eight months afterwards where I would purchase this record and in this brief collection of six songs with titles such as: Stanley Kubrick and Burn Girl Prom Queen I discovered a sound that went beyond the initial layer of emotional feeling one usually gives to music, we're talking Bitches Brew levels. This feeling was not discovering a new sound or band, but being reunited with a sound that had been missing from my soul. Everyone carries a soundtrack to their personal story, after hearing EP+6, I found the emotional core and crescendo to mine.

For years, I had failed in my attempts to see the band perform live and almost resigned myself to accepting the fact that this may not ever happen. Finally, the opportunity arrived last night in the midst of an inspirational-lull that had seemed to be plaguing me for several weeks. Nature usually finds a way to balance itself without the ebb-and-flow getting too out of hand. After the opening set by local Olympia drone-band Earth I was questioning what I was doing out on a Tuesday night and how much tomorrow morning was going to hurt, the blues of the working class slob. Luckily I had the Showbox special of the Dirty Bird (1 shot Wild Turkey followed by a tall-boy of PBR) to get the adrenaline up.

The house lights dimmed with only the laptop glow visible, the five lads from Glasgow all came out sporting matching Celtic FC track tops in a nice touch of fusing one of the world’s greatest bands and the world’s greatest game. As they set loose with a penta-champ set list (unavailable at time of writing) I was amazed at the unbelievable stage presence a band can have without the annoyance of a lead-vocalist. Stuart Braithwaite occupies the middle of the stage with the unassuming charm of the next-door neighbor. The violently-fragile style of Mogwai is accentuated perfectly by drummer Martin Bulloch’s dynamic approach to his kit, blending perfect fills to drive the peaceful moments of the Mogwai sound. Each member of the band has perfected his input and equally they capture the power of Voltron.

Before the show, I was warned about the ‘wall-o-sound’ effect that the band would have on my ears and during the first part of set I abided the warnings with proper protection. I recommend this to anyone for parts of any show that you attend; it grants a better appreciate for the skills that outstanding musicians showcase during a live show. You hear the light strum of a guitar or the precise placement of a minor chord from the keyboard, the very part of live music that makes it surreal and monumentous. With two songs to go in the first set, I pulled the plugs and went naked in order to feel the ‘wall-o-sound’ and take the experience up a notch. They finished the first set with a track from their excellent first LP release “Young Team” that transcended every concert experience that I’ve ever had. The captivating strength by the sound from Mogwai leads to an emotional clarity that I wish everyone was intimate with. I stood with eyes closed as feelings and memories where given technicolor and enhanced sound. The collective conscience of the venue became present when I opened my eyes and I saw other face the reality that we are physical beings.

The encore set was just as unbelievable, including a point were the room was uncomfortably silent with the hollars of men that had apparently followed my suggestion of consuming as many Dirty Birds as possible, and then, like an unsuspecting cow on train tracks we were hit with about 120 decibels from the ‘wall-o-sound’ that made for the final climax in the cinematic undertones of Mogwai’s sound.


The apex of last night and the inspirational/emotional experience that followed will slowly fade from memory only to be stoked again by another tour, but I feel that I would be doing a disservice to myself and the lads for not getting down my thoughts about an unassuming band with an awe-inspiring sound. Please check out this (note during the show they include audio from Madden and Summerall) this and this for musical reference or come talk to the good Doctor for hookup.