Boredoms exist in a consciously consciousless state, or so we like to believe. They take rock, noise, and World music and mutate it to suit themselves. They are true innovators.
Boredoms exist in a consciously consciousless state, or so we like to believe. They take rock, noise, and World music and mutate it to suit themselves. They are true innovators.
Support act Kes Band were expanded from Kes Trio for this show, out to seven in fact, and this lineup aided Karl Scullin in fully realising the sonic integrity of the new Kes Trio album. In particular, the addition of Justin Fuller on guitar was critical, power-playing and power-broking the sort of sandpaper guitar that patchworks the current Kes Band set. Tracks from the album proved to be absolute in their definition, the band aided and abetted by The Forum’s bottom and upper-ended sound system. While I wondered how anyone could lead in Boredoms, Kes Band’s crunchy set was the fantastic prelude to the atom bomb that is and was Boredoms.
I was convinced that the existence of ten drummers for Boredoms might lead to a maelstrom of frantic randomness of rhythm and chaos: I was wrong. With nine of the ten drummers on stage, including Boredoms’ Yoshimi, the beginning was more akin to that of an orchestra and conductor than it was the clearly loose approximation from any other band. Eye stood mid-stage, part MC, part wand-wearer, part scientist, while nine drummers surrounded him accepting his broad strokes and stick-bearing as to accentuate the frame of their playing.
Each drummer met the playing of the other stroke-by-stroke in meticulous fashion, perfectly timed, precisely automated. Some performed as though under instruction, others pummelled their kit wildly but never missed a beat and never added a spare. Never have I experienced such a whirlwind of playing and, even more amazingly, the pinpoint alignment within the cacophony of it all.
In the middle of this cyclone of limbs and frenzy Eye bounded, playing a seven-armed guitar and some unusual upright panels which appear to be more like enormous keys lifted from an inordinately large organ. The free-form feeling of the material was quite amazing in that it felt absolutely without pre-emption and even at times, improvised, but in fact that was quite impossible given the split-second metronomic timing of each player, and as it turned out this was the truly amazing part of the performance; contemplating the complex, layered maps which Eye and Boredoms enforced to create this cataclysm of sounds.
Did this relent? Did the show actually ‘get’ free-form? No. All of this workman-like playing persisted for nigh on the two-hour show, and the euphoria of watching Eye and all of the other musicians just got more and more amazing. At times the pieces really did delve into the deeply psychedelic confines of music rooted in free-jazz, but still everyone remained stoically upright. The physicality of the show was also absolutely mesmerising.
One of the other things worth mentioning was the theatrical side of the show. Early on, the tenth drummer was carried through the crowd and his kit placed on the stage. He replaced Eye on a drumkit centre-stage and, although unassuming, was almost robotic in his incredibly fast (and precise) playing throughout.
Boredoms were literally a cyclone. The show went from precisely 12am until 2am but the air of amazement walked with me to my car and all the way through the next day. I think I was mouth and mind aghast for much of the show, and as Eye led through crew from one long winding piece to another I never ceased to be transfixed and energised by their performance.
If not the, then one of the, most amazing and memorable performances I will ever experience.
