Boris
The Crocodile, Seattle, Wa
08.16.14
I remember the first time I heard Boris. It was early 2006. I was twenty-three and hung over, smoking cigarettes in my underwear in my six hundred square foot apartment in Omaha, Nebraska. The Midwestern summer was boiling us all alive and I was eating Ramen for breakfast/lunch when my friend emailed me with a link to an album with an unassuming pink cover, articulately titled “Pink”. “Listen to this right away,” was the message. “Listen to this loud.” “Oh, brother,” I thought. “Pink? Really?” I inspected the album cover and realized that under its comforting, birthday cake hue there cavorted what appeared to be demons and other fantastical winged creatures. My trepidation increased and I hit play on Winamp, expecting at most a melodic death metal band. I spent the next forty-five minutes in a sweaty daze, cheap Dell speakers turned up to levels that were never meant to be used, smoking cigarette after cigarette as Boris led the way through a landscape of scathing guitar noise molded to a myriad of rock and roll styles, all punctuated with a pulverizing rhythm section. As soon as the record ended, I played it again. And again. And again.
We get to The Crocodile early in order to secure a good place for the show. I last saw the opener Master Musicians of Bukkake (giggle) at Bumbershoot a few years ago and greatly enjoyed their theatrical, extravagant and slightly absurd brand of costumed psychedelia. They do not fail to disappoint with the theatricality this time either. MMoB plays for about forty-five minutes before it is time for Marriages to come on.
I know nothing about Marriages, apart from the fact that Marriages is one strange name for a band. Marriages displays a more prominent, stable rhythm section, over which the guitar creates an increasing crescendo of noise. Andrew Clinco and Greg Burns set up the drums and bass with all the tightness of Shellac. Emma Ruth Rundle’s singing alternates between a soft whisper and a low howl as she plucks at her guitar. Marriages are a great way to break up the loudness between MMoB and Boris.
Boris sets up very quickly. Their wall of Orange amps have been on stage during the opening acts, as has the Zildjian gong at the center of the stage. Boris is a three piece, consisting of Wata the guitarist, Atsuo the drummer, and bassist/vocalist/guitarist Takeshi, who is playing a black double head guitar and bass. The band is not touring with Michio Kurihara for this tour and has reduced itself to its classic three-piece ensemble. Wata and Takeshi come out and set up their instruments to loud cheers and whistles from the audience. Anticipation has been building in the audience as the three band members take their place on stage. Dressed in all black, they make an eerie, Gothic picture against a backdrop of smoke and yellow light. The effect is immediate and silences the audience.
It is always interesting to see how Boris will construct their shows. For this show, they start with the slow opener Melody, which morphs into the high energy, lick-filled Vanilla. The set gradually slows down even as it gets louder. Just when one thinks that things cannot possibly get louder, Wata leans forward, steps on a volume pedal and the sound of her guitar swells even further. The band does not spend a lot of time talking in between songs. Even when someone screams Wata’s name, she does not flinch or look up. It is Atsuo who talks for the band, speaking into his headset microphone to ask everyone how they are doing and if they are having a good time. When the band finally quiets down for the twenty-minute song Angel, there is almost a sense of relief as our ears ring and beg for forgiveness. The respite is brief before the band changes dynamics and launches into its final song. The guitar volume ratchets up in sound and I just close my eyes. The band has coalesced into a wall of sound that no longer seems to come from a specific point, but seems to originate from my own head. My jaw vibrates and my teeth chatter and the feeling is incredibly soothing. I feel like I am in a trance. The sound is everywhere, all around me and in my head and mouth. This is drone.
Review by R. G. Fitz
Photos by Sunny Martini
Boris
Marriages
Masters of Bukake
