Antisocial Skateshop
Vancouver, British Columbia
The best being my leather jacket.
Last night was Nü Sensae's record-release show at the Antisocial Skateshop celebrating their new LP Sundowning (Suicide Squeeze, 2012). Also featured on the bill were Nü Sensae's good friends White Lung who themselves recently released a new album titled Sorry (Deranged Records, 2012) which you can listen to in full here.
Despite "strict" time-constraints (the bands stressed on their Facebook event page that the set times were rigid due to the 11 P.M. curfew), White Lung took their time taking the stage, or floor, rather. Had they known they were in store for the bass amp's power cutting off two or three times at the beginning of their set (the first time within seconds of their first song), perhaps they would have been more punctual. Even by the second power-failure, the treat of free booze (while quantities lasted) seemed to have been inadequate in quenching the growing audience's thirst for high-velocity punk rawk, especially after White Lung teased the audience by having appeared to have launched into their first ripper ... as a soundcheck.
Although lead-singer Mish Way's mic could have been louder, the band sounded great. They tore straight ahead through their thirty-ish-minute set with everyone in the band sounding bold and clear on their way to the finish line: Kenneth Williams' jagged guitars punctured through the destructive maelstrom of sound while Grady MacIntosh fired relentless volleys of thuddily palpable bass notes, and Anne-Marie Vassiliou tamed the chaos into some kind of order as best as she could with her merciless, thunderous, mechanically precise drumming.
Having been my first "real" punk show where all of the focus was on Nü Sensae and White Lung (rather than on them merely as openers or parts of a festival line-up), I was slightly disenchanted by the crowd's docility during White Lung. I'd expected the crowd to have been pretty crazy, given that most of the people there, I assumed, were going to have been the bands' equally rowdy punk friends and the "real" punks who go to these sorts of shows as a religion. Admittedly, I was a part of the "problem," as I didn't move much during White Lung either, as much as I liked them.
The mood totally changed when Nü Sensae came on, however. I and pretty much everyone else who was into it got into it. Before I knew it, without even having been really conscious of the fact, I'd somehow found myself standing right in front of singer/bassist Andrea Lukic. I stood so close to her, I could have sang into her mic without leaning in, and believe me, the temptation was almost overpowering. More than a few times, I and the people around me nearly knocked over her mic-stand. I, or more likely one of the guys next to me, actually unplugged her peddle by kicking it, an accident unrelated to a handful of us slipping on beer and falling onto the floor; yeah, there were more than a few cans of beer flying and spraying around last night; I caught a few on the shoulder and chest but remained unscathed thanks to the moderate protection afforded me by the carapace that was my jacket.
Nü Sensae get better every time I see them. Even more than at the Khatsahlano Music + Arts Festival did their songs sound more developed and progressive, with the inclusion of some extended jams, instead of just like relentless deluges of sound. Unfortunately, unlike last time at Khats, Andrea's vocals did not soar above the rest of the band and carpet-bomb us with shrill cries, feral growls or Serengeti-an roars. I guess the complaint is somewhat moot, though: when one stood as close to Andrea as I did, I guess her mic volume didn't matter that much.
Though I escaped the show without any cuts, bruises or scrapes this time, I hadn't moshed that hard since Les Savy Fav or maybe Andrew W.K., although I'm reluctant to count Andrew W.K., because that was more like fighting for my life rather than having a good time. That said, it was a total mistake to have worn my aforementioned leather jacket, as I sweltered, stuck, dripped and soaked with sweat (and a little booze) like never before; who'd have thought, on a hot summer night, crammed amongst a hundred or so living bodies in a relatively tiny skateshop? I probably would have had more ease escaping a straight-jacket than taking off my leather jacket.
And that was the night I vowed to never miss either Nü Sensae or White Lung again - unless they're supporting some crappy, over-priced bands.
Also, I'm starting to recognize too many people at shows ...
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