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Melvins @ Electric Ballroom London |
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Melvins
@
Electric Ballroom London |
A crushing drone, oceanic in its gait, forces the Electric Ballroom into submission within seconds of the Melvins taking the stage. Buzz Osborne’s now greying corkscrew afro is highlighted by white light as he wrenches guttural splinters from his guitar, and Dale Crover’s volcanic drum hits steadily climb to the spine-tingling climax of ‘Hung Bunny’ and beyond – into the pulverising sway of ‘Roman Bird Dog’.
This is awesome. This is fucking awesome.
The Melvins’ magisterial sludge is so heavy; so tight, and yet so tempered, that all the audience can do is nod in astonishment as a tidal wave of noise surges over them. Crover’s drumming is colossal, and coupled with Jared Warren’s overdriven bass, the low end is like a depth charge inside your chest. Never has the importance of bass in a live band been more evident than at this Melvins gig. It slices through the dense air and vibrates through your body at a primordial level, forcing you to stomp, punch, and headbang to every bass slam. That there are only three people on stage is quite unbelievable.
‘Evil New War God’ – from 2010’s album ‘The Bride Screamed Murder’ – proves that even today the Melvins are still detonating the boundary between punk and metal, with a huge riff worthy of Kyuss or even Black Sabbath. The twisted bluesy riff of ‘Lizzy’ jars claustrophobically until it is released with a chunky grunge chorus, while ‘Ligature’ provides a devastating prelude to ‘The Bit’ with its ironic Indian-style intro and bone-shattering riff. The set concludes with ‘Shevil’, a mellow burner, providing respite from an otherwise brutal gig.
Dizzy, bruised, and thoroughly astonished, the audience departs.
Despite having been around for a ridiculous 28 years, the Melvins have proved themselves to still be every bit as relevant and influential as when a young man named Kurt Cobain heard them for the first time in the mid-80s. |
Reviewed by Liam McLaughlin
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Live Reviews