Narc. Magazine Online
Reliably informed
Lee Fisher enjoys old favourites and unexpected treats as the Scottish band deliver an essential set
Image: Mogwai by Thomas Jackson
I haven’t really kept up with Forest Swords since the first few releases, although Engravings still gets played a lot, and it’s been fourteen years since I last saw him live (at the old Star & Shadow, part of that year’s wonderful A/V Festival). It’s a typically smart support act choice from Mogwai, an artist from an entirely different field but still somehow in keeping with the headliner’s invention and deep atmospherics. And his set was good, but something about the set-up – the cavernous stage with just a small table full of kit, the very low-key lighting, Matthew Barnes’ very unassuming persona – makes it feel a little flat, lacking in impact. Definitely more suited to clubs and small spaces, where the bass hits and unsettling electronics can really land.
The last time I saw Mogwai in this room, almost exactly fifteen years ago, something was missing from their set too. The venue’s astonishing acoustics didn’t compensate completely for the slightly sterile feel, and nor did the seats. No such problems tonight – this was the best I’ve seen them for a long time. I have to admit I’m an old guard fan – I was seeing Mogwai in small rooms in London in 1997 and I’m still a slave to the quiet/loud dynamics of their early days, being pinned to the wall of sweaty London dirtboxes by their assault. But you can only plough that furrow for so long and they’ve reinvented themselves with aplomb, especially with their latest The Bad Fire, which is their best in more than a decade. The extent to which Mogwai change up their setlist from night to night is always admirable and means plenty of surprises: the tracks from The Bad Fire, especially second tune Hi Chaos, which recalls Sonic Youth in its lovely detuned-ness, sound wonderful and the rest of the setlist ranged across the whole of their catalogue and threw up some unexpected treats. Mogwai Fear Satan is always a highlight – like it has been for three decades – and tonight’s version was glorious, especially when the wall of lights kicked in for the second crescendo like a jump scare in a really gnarly Japanese horror movie. Even though we knew it was coming, it was still exhilarating. And praise be to the setlist gods that tonight was one of those rare sets where they picked My Father, My King – perhaps the greatest thing they ever recorded and, live, one of the greatest things you’ll ever hear. It’s easy to take Mogwai for granted but it takes just one gig to remind you how essential they are.
