I have a new favourite band.
Some drummers know shit. Some drummers think they’re there to fill in spaces and cross their arms and wave fancy sticks in the air. That’s not The New Eves’ way. She looks calm, relaxed – moving with the flow, never once crossing her arms, standing up (of course) as she hammers out a litany of wonderment and magic, thunderous yet oddly sparse… someone who understands the importance of Moe Tucker, Jacqui Ham and Maher Shalal Hash Baz, someone who feels so natural and unafraid it puts 98% of all other drummers to shame, someone who moves and rocks and closes her eyes as she feels for the moment, leading intoxication after intoxication. I am so in awe of The New Eves’ drummer, it makes me tremble. If only more drummers would stand up and not cross their arms. If only more drummers cared.
The voices are just fantastic. Caught billowing and yodelling in mid-air, like a moment caught out of time, weaving and interweaving and catching harmony and discordant beauty, sometimes quietened and sad, other times full-throated and captivating, other times both simultaneously and many other things besides… intentional chaos. It’s performative and theatrical sure, but simultaneously it really isn’t – this feels so natural, so organic in its joy and exploration.
Think of The Roches, even though it clearly isn’t.
I am here because a week ago, someone described this band to me as a “medieval UT”. (UT being the contrarian NYC noise band I saw 45 times between 1981 and 1982.) You think I’m gonna pass up a description like that? Seven years ago, I nearly passed up an opportunity to see Porridge Radio, same venue (the Prince Albert by Brighton Station) until someone threw in a Raincoats comparison, and I ended up writing this – http://collapseboard.com/i-watched-40-seconds-of-the-greatest-band-a-tragedy-in-40-seconds/. I ain’t so stupid this time around. I come prepared, although I haven’t heard a note. This music matters to me, you understand.
This is my heartland music.
This is my life.
The cello is wonderful: poised, elegant, primal… soaring when you want it to soar and soaring when you don’t. The interplay with the jarring Richard Hell-type guitar and … oh, Raincoats… violin is something magical when it occurs, and it occurs a lot. The bass… wowza. The bass. So fluent, so responsive… this whole play-and-respond thing is what lifts them far above other bands who understand the importance of theatre and aesthetic cohesiveness. Some songs are like Gregorian chant echoes, others abrasive textural challenges. Some songs make you want to lift your arms up high, reach for the upper firmament, others… wow. Well, other songs build a cold fury and hold it for hours at a time, a welter of blurred strings and broken promises. Other songs make me think of that time I saw Patti Smith at the Brighton Dome and how righteous she still is, after all these years. Other songs make me realise how futile, how useless most music is when compared to The New Eves. Other songs simply are.
Other bands played last night and they were great too, but…
Tonight, I have a new favourite band.
How NOT to write about music 