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This show, headed by Scottish post-rockers extraordinaire Mogwai, has to have earned the world record for largest crowd size increase between the openers and the headliners. So, like the good people of Chicago, I will also give criminally short shrift to the insanely young Lights Out Asia and the insanely calculated Boas. Lights Out Asia sound a lot like (gasp!) Mogwai, only a bit more laid-back and with some blips and beeps added courtesy of a little black laptop. They are made up of former members of Aurore Rien, and their best moments came when the young guitarist in the CCCP hoodie sang, which he did quite rarely. His voice is surprisingly powerful, and matches their music well. They should use him more. The Boas may have made a name change announcement that I didn’t quite catch. Their music is quick and poppy without being catchy, and features what I, as a music critic, am bound by contract to refer to as “angular guitar riffs.” The Boas, like many so-so bands, are at their best when they are at their most hard-rockin’. In essence, they look and sound almost exactly like what the Strokes would look and sound like if they had formed in Chicago instead of New York. If you are reading this review from Chicago, then run. Now. Go to Nebraska or something.
Chicago’s sizable Metro was less than one-third full for the openers, but by the time Mogwai took the stage, it was positively crammed. Mogwai were joined by a small, dramatically lit bust of a Passion Christ, and a ridiculous amount of equipment, most of which, as far as I can tell, went unused. They opened with “Ithica 27-9”, one their first songs, though they’re touring in support of the recently released Happy Songs for Happy People. Like every critic to review Happy Songs, I will assume, that you, the reader, are a complete idiot and point out that the album’s title is ironic. In case you are unfamiliar with Mogwai, I should probably also mention that Mogwai use vocals only in extreme cases, and even then rarely use discernable lyrics. Most often you’ll hear their songs referred to as “soundscapes,” which basically means that their fuzzy, layered guitar-rock can kick your ass six ways to Sunday, whether it’s barely audible or so loud you can’t stand it.
Unlike most bands, Mogwai didn’t feel the need simply to play their latest album with the track order mixed up. In fact, part of the revelation of seeing Mogwai live was learning how well new and old songs complemented each other. I could see this in the way that, even after “Helicon 1”, an early Mogwai track, the new “Ratts of the Capital” didn’t feel like a letdown, but rather a blistering culmination. This was most apparent, though, in the brilliant coupling of Happy Songs’ “Kids Will Be Skeletons” with “Mogwai Fear Satan”, a certifiable classic from Mogwai’s 1997 debut full-length, Young Team.
“Kids Will Be Skeletons”, the most frighteningly named track from Happy Songs for Happy People, is also, of course, its least grim. It’s a quiet song, carrying a sweet little melody, building for five minutes, but stopping short of the guitar explosion found in most Mogwai songs. Live, everything loud sounded louder, and everything quiet sounded quieter. “Skeletons” meandered along, giving the audience a chance to collect itself after the assault of the earlier songs. Instead of fading away as it does on record, “Skeletons” began to build again, eventually morphing into the first strains of “Mogwai Fear Satan”, which is, for my money, the best song Mogwai has ever recorded. The build-up live was faster than expected, seeing leadman Stuart Braithwaite jumping into action, looking strangely heroic in Batman T-shirt and tight stocking cap. The quiet, almost-silent middle section of the song is what got me, though, with drums louder than expected, imitating the repetitive guitar part perfectly. I’ve always assumed the song’s title to be another joke, but as the drums repeated themselves over and over, sounding more and more martial, all I could picture was someone running in dark, knowing that something incomprehensibly evil is chasing him, body exploding with fear, but trying desperately to stay silent. If this seems melodramatic, it’s nothing compare to the onslaught that followed, so loud that people in the crowd actually screamed in fear, the song coming completely unhinged but somehow still sticking with that same melody. I am not exaggerating in the least when I say that, for about five seconds, I actually, physically felt like I was falling. Not in the happy, sublime way, but in the holy-shit-I’m-falling way.
Mogwai was really, really loud, louder than any band I’ve seen live. But they were also really, really quiet. These extremes both helped to amplify each other, but they also gave annoying members of the crowd a chance to yell out song requests. Bear with me for a moment, because it’s high time I ranted about this. If you go to a concert, do not yell out song requests during a band’s set unless: a) they specifically ask for requests or b) it’s the encore. Everyone has their own favorites they’d like to hear, and a band can’t please everyone. They’ve planned out a set list, so trust them for Christ’s sake. Almost every quiet moment was drowned out by a girl yelling for “Christmas Steps”, from 1999’s (ironically titled) Come On Die Young, which Mogwai finally played during the encore. “Christmas Steps” is one of the few Mogwai songs that could be legitimately described as “catchy.” It’s just begging for someone to cut it down and record vocals over it. As it was, its out-of-nowhere (dare I say, angular?) guitar riffs kept up the show’s rocking momentum while scaling the loudness back a bit. A nice punctuation to the only show I’ve ever been to that was a true bodily experience.
