2 LIVE REVIEW: Russian Circles @ Neumos

Review by Metal Matt - @metalcobra

Nov. 19th, 2009 - Russian Circles, Young Widows, Helms Alee @ Neumos

I hate waiting for shit. I especially hate waiting to see a band that I know is going to kill it in unimaginable ways. So sitting in Moe bar on a cold, rainy, windy Seattle evening trying to kill the few hours that separated me from Russian Circles was complete fucking torture. Well, torture with beer. But still torture.

At last the doors opened and the show was underway. Kudos to Neumo’s for blaring the Shrinebuilder album between sets, very choice indeed! Helms Alee was the first band to hit the stage, and chugged through a set of tunes from their record ‘Night Terror’. I only had a chance to listen to the album a few times before the show, but I can say the band pulled off the material really well. They sounded great and had energy and charisma. Even though I’m not a huge Helms Alee fan, and I couldn’t tell you specifically why this is because I would still describe them as ‘worth a listen and for sure see a show’, I enjoyed their set and would likely see them again.

Next up (after more Shrinebuilder!) was Young Widows. These guys had it stacked against them in my mind, because I initially disliked their album ‘Old Wounds’ – describing it to someone, I think, verbatim, as ‘sloppy neo-grunge that does not get anywhere.’ However, Young Widows won me over. They had these gnarly light cabinets that backlit the band for the duration of the set, bringing to mind a stark warehouse or generator party deep in the darkest woods with folks standing around pulling on illicit homebrew and cheap cans of beer. The energy of Young Widows was insane, and they pulled their shit off with admirable conviction and ferocity, remaining undeterred even by a mid-set broken string change. After the show, I listened to the album again and muttered quietly to myself, “Oh yeah, I get it now. Wiiiiicked.” Score one for Young Widows.

Photo taken by SRG

Finally, at the peak of my impatience to witness what I knew I was about to witness, the fog machine kicked into high gear, the lights dimmed, and gradually three wiry figures took the stage and donned instruments. As the stage lights turned deep red to mimic a kind of sunset, Dave Turncrantz began the battering ram into to “Harper Lewis” from 2008’s ‘Station’, one of the heavier tunes in the Russian Circles catalog. It was such a sick way to start the show! The complete thunder of former Botch bassist Brian Cook and the two-handed tapping technical mastery of guitarist Mike Sullivan in tandem is enough to make your head spin. This is something I cannot stress enough: Russian Circles is utterly flawless live. They played like they had overhead somebody talking shit about their mommas just minutes before stage time.

I was expecting to hear a set mostly comprised of ‘Geneva’, fresh off the presses from last month, but the set was pretty much a 50/50/50 mix of their three albums. The fog remained ominously for the duration of the set and whoever ran lights for them did an amazing job of using Neumo’s setup in time with the music. Songs like “Micah” and “Death Rides a Horse” from 2006’s ‘Enter’ were very cool to hear. But it was the mind-bending loops upon loops upon loops and sonic overkill of moments in newer songs like “Malko” and “Geneva” that took this gig into space. With the amount of pedals and electronic shit on the stage you have to be impressed that half the tunes don’t train wreck, but this is unthinkable altogether as the band possesses an inhuman amount of precision.

Russian Circles are the forerunners of what a lot of folks are calling crescendo-core or instru-metal, but I contend that they are as prog as it gets. Most folks have simply forgotten what prog is (controversially simple definition: stoner metal with way more notes, longer songs, usually without vocals or very sparse vocals)(see also: Isis), and how much ass it kicks. I find myself holding my breath involuntarily during Russian Circles songs, the textures and moments of sheer granite heaviness turning my mind into inoperative primordial goo. By mid point in the set, I could not tell you what song they were playing, just that I knew it and I liked it. When it was all over, the only motor skills I was still in conscious possession of were standing and blinking. My brain had been reduced down to a dull buzz inside my skull. Russian Circles fucking owns.