Nothing, Hare & Hounds, Birmingham - review
Since forming eight years ago, Philly shoegazers Nothing have endured a troubled history that is well documented elsewhere, the short version of which involves death, jail, brain damage, the standard excesses of rock 'n' roll and a dodgy record label.
There have also been three albums, each one better than the last, culminating with this year’s outstanding Dance On The Blacktop.
It’s a record that has been scandalously overlooked in many critics end of year lists, a point wryly noted by frontman Domenic Palermo during tonight’s set, who points out with a smile: “Pitchfork doesn’t like us any more.”
With Monday night gigs notoriously poorly attended, it's no surprise to see a small – but enthusiastic – crowd upstairs at the Hare & Hounds for the band's return to Brum after a two-year absence.
They're at the tail end of a long European tour, the tenth of 11 UK dates tacked onto the end of a run that began at the start of November.
The band are determined to go out on a high – particularly with guitarist Brandon Setta celebrating his birthday – although the long days and nights on the road had clearly taken a toll.
“If we seem a bit mental, it’s because we are,” drawled Palermo, necking red wine straight from the bottle.
They’d spent the day taking in the ‘cultural exhibits’ of Birmingham, which consisted solely of the local ‘Spoons pub. "That's all there is to see," says Palermo, who along with Setta looks decidedly worse for the wear.
Not that it affects the band's performance one jot. Musically Nothing plunders from the guitar-driven heaviness of My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive, with lyrics that are, to borrow a phrase from the latest Drug Church album, darker than a sea trench.
From opener Zero Day it is immediately evident that Nothing are LOUD. We are talking the type of loud that makes people who wear ear buds to shows take them out and examine them to make sure they're working properly.
B&E, from 2014’s Guilty of Everything, sees drummer Kyle Kimball’s steady beat lead into a Swervedriver vibe, with Palermo and Setta's clashing guitars creating a wave of noise and Aaron Heard battering the living hell out of his bass as the song reaches its stunning crescendo.
Heard, who also fronts hardcore mob Jesus Piece, is a livewire in the centre of a stage that is bathed in rouge, a poignant tone when Palermo sings ‘everything’s red’ on Us/We/Are.
It's Nothing to a tee – a beautiful song with bleaker than bleak lyrics.
It is a near perfect set, with ACD (Abscessive Compulsive Disorder) and Vertigo Flowers from second album Tired of Tomorrow (back when they were the darlings of Pitchfork) particular highlights.
The haunting (HOPE) Is Just Another Word With a Hole in It and Eaten by Worms bring things to a close, showing the band's gentler side among the crushing volume.
When the set is done, Nothing leave us to search for the after party, armed with the worrying reality that 'Spoons is about to close.
Next time they're in the second city, someone please sort them out with a tour guide.
