Dotmusic.com - (June 2000)|
What did Muse do to divide opinion so emphatically? Comparisons to other bands or band, more specifically - are endless. Constant accusations of imitation, and simulation. Those blokes from Devon, sent straight from Industry Hell to deliver torment by numbers and supply distress on demand. At least, in the eyes of the more cynical rock hacks.
In truth, to watch Muse perform live is revitalising. The frantic activity in the front twelve rows reminds you of exactly why you fell in love with music in the first place, while every single earnest note is so immense, so resounding, so catastrophic, you cannot help but remember just how pleasantly terrifying live music once seemed. There's a lot of suffering on display tonight, on the faces of the youthful audience who've travelled hundreds of miles for this. New icon for the disenchanted, the devilishly angelic Matt Bellamy, is a focal point for every ounce of this familiar brand of instinctive angst. Muse absorb the emotion, they channel it, and feed it mercilessly through guitars, before returning it. It's the musical interpretation of general despair, and a highly effective exercise in guitar torture. Surely six strings have never cried out in pain in quite the same way. Months of touring have rendered much of this material unrecognisable. Many tracks bear little relation to their recorded counterparts, but what remains abundant is energy. As such, it's a suitably epic performance. Vast sounds are equalled by a remarkably appropriate light show, searing blue strobes juxtaposed by an evil red glow. The band's arrival instigates a searing riff, one rooted firmly in fifties rock 'n' roll. It's the green light for mass pogoing, a frenzy driven by anticipation as much as satisfaction. 'Uno' then ushers in the crowd surfers, driven by the sound of a thunderclap, persuasively appropriated. A mid set cover of the old soul classic, 'Feeling Good', is justifiably met with slightly more bemusement. Bellamy's gasping reinterpretation takes the accepted uplifting undertones of the original, and renders them obsolete. "It's a new day, it's a new life.. and I'm feeling good" is bitterly howled, generating negative sentiments far from the accepted interpretation. It bridges the gap between the power and the sensitivity demonstrated during new single 'Unintended', haunting vocals proving the cue for a flood of romantic memories. The spirit of glam rock is bizarrely apparent tonight. Schizophrenic tendencies are evident during 'Fillip', Bellamy's accusatory expression recalling the image of a performer lost somewhere between Gary Glitter and Iggy Pop. Popping up and down like a demonic Jack in the Box, you can't help be aware of how inclusive this performance is. Energy isn't directed out, to the fans, but inwards, driving the band deeper and deeper into layers of destructive distortion. There's something seedy about it all, a crowd of voyeurs watching what feels like a private, personal act. Even the ritualistic instrument smashing finale, inciting a fierce battle over the remnants of Chris Wolstenholme's guitar, and Dominic Howard's towel, seems internal, some sort of a sadistic in-joke. There's no encore, and the band doesn't address the crowd a great deal tonight, but it doesn't matter. The acquaintance has already been made with these people. It won't be long before the rest catch on. Aaron Scullion Aaron Scullion |
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