The hustle and rock-chic edge of Howler is a very distinct beast. Initially, it seemed like a bizarre housing for transcendental electronic reverberations based on the soundtracks of classic sci-fi anime films (ya know?).
Akira‘s one of those albums that you put a lot of personal stock in – you attach a distinct mood or vibe to it when you listen alone, and hearing gruff cheers of “Woo” in the middle of something you personally identify as hypnotic tension was a bit unexpected. However, this is by no means a bad thing – it demonstrated the diversity of Black Cab’s music, and the way in which their fans could enjoy it. Some swayed to the trance-like waves, some even headbanged – and many remained entrenched in the packed crowd, completely transfixed by the sights and sounds around them.
Delighting in the album’s namesake, a giant projection screen behind the trio flickered glitchy scenes of various anime movies and shows – from classic clips of Ghost In The Shell and Neon Genesis Evangelion to contemporary fare like Attack On Titan. The kaleidoscope of image and vibrant colour weaved a fertile ground of imagination, which was perfect for this album – a soundtrack where you create the story in your mind.
Black Cab themselves relinquished centre stage to taiko master and album collaborator Toshi Sakamoto. You soon discovered why – Sakamoto’s skill on the traditional Japanese percussion instrument was an honour to witness, a foundation that drew your focus. He played his own set before the main event – bathed in blue light, he captivated the audience with his truly powerful technique. It’s difficult to explain, but there’s a theatre in the way he conducts himself alone – his movement and precision speak of a concentrated experience, and demand respect. When Sakamoto returned to combine his art with the pulsing electronic craft of Black Cab, there was no mistaking the genius at play between the trio.
Live is the ultimate way to experience Akira. There’s an aching intensity to the album that keeps you on edge until the very end. With every thump of Sakamoto’s taiko and with every blast of bass that vibrates through your body, you get to feel the emotive landscape that the music emulates. Near the front of the stage, those amps actually shook you to your literal core. It positioned your body in the dark, ominous purity, and left you breathless.
Finally, Closing Titles played. It was a celebratory vibe – a rewarding, triumphant swell – and the crowd noticeably began to loosen into a relaxed groove. We made it, everybody. After a thunderous round of applause and cheer, the pair returned to the stage to play some kinetic classics. Anybody could swear that they’d been teleported to another place entirely, as bodies bounced in anticipation for a big night out. The beautifully intense world we shared had slipped away, but the memory was (and will be) a lasting one – we felt it echo on, as we stepped into the cool silence of winter air outside.
Highlight: Everything between Breakout and Override.
Lowlight: Getting beer spilt on me. Not too bad, but it just ruins the immersion.
Crowd Favourite: Closing Titles. A very strong finish.
