Everything nice but Isaac Wood, that is.
I am at the back of a line. A long line. Hopping off at BART’s Powell Station, I was not expecting this many people; an amused feeling of surprise crawls its way across my face. I love a lengthy queue of self-proclaimed misfits. A passer-by asks the goth couple directly ahead of me, “What type of music is this for?”
“Post-punk.”
Interesting! Having stumbled upon Dry Cleaning during the pandemic, I have slowly waded into the waters of the new rock scene in England. The cheeky term “post-brexit” might seem a bit overbearing or ridiculous to the uninitiated, but it captures the feel of this new scene in an era of (not uncommon) detachment for the “common” people of England, the first people to experience the “first-world” issues of late-stage capitalism.
Despite the bleak, dystopian outlook on life in England from which some of their peers draw inspiration (the top of the ticket being on tour for the new album Hellfire), opener Black Country, New Road played endearing music that fluttered and sparkled, even when the subject was melancholy.
I had seen pictures of the band before, but had not heard anything beyond For the first time (2021). I saw a friend I had forgotten would be in attendance, who informed me that lead singer Isaac Wood had left the band. Most of the material the band presented would be new for those who have only heard their two official studio releases; there were many fan favorites from Youtube bootlegs, with vocal duties split amongst the remaining members. Save the dedicated violinist and drummer, most members switched instruments. Among the singers, one switched between sax and flute, another between bass and guitar (busting out a bow for some songs), and the last between piano and accordion. As someone who plays multiple instruments, I was impressed with the consistent tone and musicianship of everyone on stage, and the chemistry amongst the clear friends as they sang songs that, to me, were newborn and nameless.
Furthermore, they were funny. An audience member called out, “Skylar!” and received a matter-of-fact “That’s my name,” before Skylar started conducting the others with gestures that went far beyond your average high school music director. There’s a joyousness and humor conveyed by this happy band’s music-making. Even in the songs that seem to be contemplating the loss of their lead singer, they seem happy and hopeful: “We made something to be proud of.” On another song the flutist referenced Frank Sinatra’s “My Way,” singing the iconic proclamation with a resigned yet assured delivery. Though my friend explained that the band may be awaiting Wood’s return, without him they still follow their own advice from the last song of the set: “Don’t just stand there… you’re still on the stage.”
“Bittersweet Symphony” by the Verve interrupted intermission music, followed by the booming voice of a boxing match announcer a la the video for the single “Sugar/Tzu.” Announced as “Black Hellfire Midi, undefeated champions,” the band roared to life.
Geordie Greep, vocalist and guitarist, was surprisingly less concerned with stage presence than expected. From my listening I figured he would command the stage in a more theatrical way. His guitar playing and delivery were both impressive, but bassist Cameron Picton had the more animated stage presence. “Still” was definitely a favorite, and Picton’s singing was as on point as the winding journey of an instrumental. I was struck by an appreciation for live music’s ability to fill in a picture of a band.
Over summer I read the 33 ⅓ series entry on Unknown Pleasures (1979) which pointed out the ocean between Joy Division’s raw post-punk rage during live shows and the dark, stormy landscapes of their debut record. Black midi can feel so abstract; even the name references something completely unrelated to the type of music they make! I realized in the live performance of “Still” that the band must have listened to the Stone Roses at some point. In other songs the musical DNA of much older progressive rock bands like Rush shone through. Drummer Morgan Simpson wore his influence on his sleeve, or more accurately the rest of his torso. Though his Bad Brains shirt soon came off, the statement was clear through contrast with his more formally attired bandmates. Much like the dancers for their music video “John L,” black midi seems like a human machine, humming and beeping flesh, galloping into beauty and jilting back into chaos.
Masterful musicians supported by a keyboard wizard Greep referred to only as “Shank,” the more hellish passages were padded by humor. Their dominance over intense songs like “John L” was impressive, especially considering the odd rhythmic movements and, in that specific song, the moments of silence, after which every member would start up perfectly in sync. I never would have taken this song for “booty-shakin’ music,” but I have seen it! Fitting into one of the song’s pauses a break for a dance competition, Black Country, New Road came back onstage to groove with the gents before they dived back into “John L” at ludicrous speed.
Memorizing black midi lyrics must be a feat for the singers. Simpson seemed to use lyrics in some songs as markers for his drumming; more than once he sidled up to the microphone only to back off into an intensive drum break. Though generally light-tempered, someone hopped on the stage and was met with a quick, “Get the fuck off man” from Greep. It was quick enough to be humorous, and considering the boxing match angle, a thought that the moment was planned swiped briefly across my mind before being dismissed almost as violently as Greep had banished the fellow, who plummeted off the stage obediently, almost in the same motion!
Among all the gnarly instrumentals and lyrics about mice or the German Black Forest, or hollering “Find me a Christian who spends as much time on his feet,” there was a bit of introspection and clarity. Though following an English literary tradition of character portraits, a particular passage about hiding from loved ones rang a bit closer to the band’s reality. Whether the pandemic or the young band’s journey, there must be much that has changed in the past few years. Despite their critical recognition and alternative street cred, personal lives continue. “So many more things have taken your place.”
Ending the show with “Slow,” the red and blue lights recalled the fantastic music video, and Greep did a slight jig as if playing silly little tunes at a much smaller scale with much smaller stakes. They danced to “Suavemente,” and were gone.
Article and Photos by Stanley Quiros