I drove away from working knowing that I had made the correct decision. Newark, NJ to check into our hotel, and then Brooklyn, NYC for the show. I met Mickey at his apartment, we ate monster pizza, got pretentious coffee, then hit the road. 91 to 95 South for roughly 3 hours until we hit city style traffic around the GW bridge. We waded our way through the Escalade hoards and big rig lane blockers. 2.5 hours to the outskirts of the city is pretty damn good time on a mid-afternoon weekday. Another hour passes (give or take) and we arrive at the Days Hotel on Rt. 1 in beautiful Newark, NJ conveniently located across the street from The Newark International Airport. Newark is a pit; hot, decaying, industrial/airport landscapes bolster their attacks against your psyche. It's all too comforting after the chemical refineries of Englewood, Hackensack, and Seacaucus burn their way through your olfactory receptors.
Bodily waste is left, snacks are eaten, drinks are had, and we move our collective ass to NYC to see Merlyn. Afterward, we will be on our way to the Brooklyn Masonic Temple to watch Boris and Sunn 0))) perform. We work our way through a wrong turn in Elizabeth, and wind up en route to the fashion district via the Holland Tunnel.
We get through the tunnel and onto the island, but traffic is so bad that we decide to forego the Merlyn visit until the following day. We sit in traffic on one little loop of a city block for over 20 minutes, reprogram the GPS for our destination: The Brooklyn Masonic Temple.
The temple is an amazing building set in the confines of a Brooklyn neighborhood that feels like it's on the up and up. The 103 year old temple is to be our place of worship of 2 nights of loud, heavy rock 'n' drone. Tonight we are going to see Sunn 0))) & Boris play through the entirety of their aural assault Altar; tomorrow will be the almighty SLEEP who have re-formed sans original drummer Chris Hakius.
Mickey and I find parking roughly 2 blocks away, cover and hide items that might be tempting, then make the trek back to the lodge. We wait outside with the hoarde of metal fans who have come from all over to check out this evenings show. A nice gentleman and I strike up a conversation outside about the various music that we enjoy, as well as our excitement for the show. The bouncers are mostly jovial folks and we get in to the venue with no troubles. There are tons of hipsters, metalheads, and just plain jaded kids in black t-shirts with band logos that are barely decipherable. And hey! There's former Melvin Joe Preston looking very stoned and very lost. We walk through the black and white tiled front hallway, hang a right into the big open room where we will be enjoying the show.
The concert hall is a bit bigger than I would have expected. There is a big, open floor with a wrap around balcony, and a fairly large stage. It reminds of the upstairs portion of Pearl Street in Northampton, MA if it had seats around the top. As anyone who has listened to and/or experienced Boris and Sunn 0))) know they have a LOT of amps. HUGE stacks take up the back third of the left hand side of the stage. There are two drumsets, a whole area sectioned off that has a Moog synth, as well as a bunch of other synths and electronic gear. Towards the back of the room lies a huge mixing console, behind which are located the bar areas. We decide to wander around the building a bit, hit the bathrooms, and check the merch before the show goes into full swing.
The inside of the building is pretty much what you would expect from a Masonic lodge of this age. Black and white tiled floors, lots of Doric pillars offering structural (if not symbolic spiritual) support, and what appear to be marble stair cases. We head downstairs to the bathrooms, and I'm drawn to the room next to where the bathrooms are. On the wall that runs parallel to where the bathrooms are is a giant mosaic of deep Masonic symbolism. It's one of the biggest I've ever seen, and to say that it's awe inspiring is an understatement.
We head back upstairs to check the merch and mill about some more. There is a really great poster for the show, but it's sold out by the time we hit the merch table. All of the shirts have mostly been sold out or are too small for my frame. I didn't realize at the time that Boris/Sunn 0))) had already played through Altar at All Tomorrow's Parties in upstate New York only a few days before. There wasn't anything that I thought was worth purchasing, so we headed upstairs to get some seats.
We work our way up the rickety stairs, find some seats in the balcony, and plunk ourselves down stage left. A good friend of mine from NH is at the show, and I see him on the other side of the balcony. He runs over to our side, and we talk for a few minutes. We make plans to meet up after the first set to take a walk. He leaves just as Jessie Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter swing into their set.
I didn't know what to expect from them as I'm really only familiar with her vocals on Sinking Belle from Altar. Jessie has a beautiful voice that compliments the palpable longing of her songs. Her backing band is tight and they burn through the set with genuine intensity. The guitars have a twangy, reverbed-out quality that blend well with the emotions being conveyed by her vocals. It's only been about 40 minutes since the show started and I'm already starting to sweat like a pig. I'm really looking forward to getting out of the building for a few minutes.
We head downstairs and meet up with my friend from NH. We get blasted with cool air as well as a sea of black shirts and jeans. Right out in front of the building there is what has to be the smartest ice cream truck driver in the 5 boroughs. He's parked to the left of the buildings exit, and already has a line of people 20 deep. The guy must be making a killing off of Chocolate Eclairs, Rocket Pops, and Good Humor bars. We walk around the block, do the deed, and return to the sweltering heat of the lodge. BXI is just about to go on, and I'm very excited to see them play. I'm not a huge fan of the Cult aside from the albums Love, and Sonic Temple but after seeing a clip of Ian Astbury playing with Boris on youtube I'm very curious as to what they'll do.
I can honestly say that Boris is one of the best live bands I've ever seen, but my confidence in Mr. Astbury is not quite as strong. They start ripping through their first song, and it's then that I notice that, not only is he wearing sweat pants, but he's also got on a leather jacket. Hidden behind that dried and cured cow skin coat is a giant gut that I'm assuming he's CULTivated in the last 20 years of not really doing much (unless you count his jaunt out with The Doors 2000 or whatever the hell they called themselves...) Much to his credit, the man can still sing, and it winds up being a fantastic pairing. The songs flow fluidly together, intertwining the sonic abuse of Boris' Sunn 0))/Orange amplifier worship and the soaring, gritty vocals of Mr. Astbury to great effect. The end their set with a noisy, powerful rendition of The End by The Doors. Often times collaborations of this kind leave me feeling like it could have been more, it could have been BETTER. But this is a marriage of the best elements of all the performers, what any good band should be. The only disappointment I felt was when they ended their set after 5 songs.
It's getting hotter in the venue by the minute. The smell of sweaty, unwashed dudes, puddles of cheap swill, and the subtle hint of ozone from all of the electricity they must be pumping through the PA is hanging like a wet towel over a bathroom door. For some unknown reason we decide to stick it out upstairs despite the heat. There really isn't any setup between BXI and Altar as almost all of the same gear is being used. To say that we were ill prepared for what was about to happen is an understatement.
The set started 10 minutes after BXI cleared the stage; the house lights went down, Boris and the various members of Sunn 0))) walk out in their floor length hooded robes. The crowd lets out a triumphant roar as they take their positions and begin the set. The first waves of sound start to caress the audience like a spiteful tidalwave. The bass is thunderous to the point of being vomit inducing, the guitars are a screamingly loud wall of hate, and the drums tear through the mix like Summer lightning. At some point early on I realize that every part of my body is vibrating at the same frequency as the music and I start to question the integrity of the balcony seating. The waves of sound continue to crash over us for another 10 minutes or so. During the 2nd song bass player Bill Herzog is playing long, droney notes on a stand-up bass while drummer Atsuo scrapes his cymbals to create metallic ambience. The sounds are immensely unnerving and border on overwhelming. This continues for about 3 minutes until all of the lights on stage go off, half the amps cut out, and all of the sound goes out from the left half of the PA. They've been playing for under 15 minutes and they blew out the power to the left side of the stage. The crowd cheers it's satisfaction at the wanton destruction of the temple's fuse box.
There is a lot of scrambling going on behind scenes. I can see flashlight beams bending with the angles of the backstage walls, many distressed techs scurring about trying to locate the source of the problem. 15 or so minutes pass and Stephen O'Malley came out to pacify the crowd by letting us know that they just needed 10 minutes to figure out the problem. 30 or so minutes later they fully unleash the beast and lay waste to what remains of the Masonic Lodge. Jessie Sykes comes back out and sings an unbelievable version of The Sinking Belle (Blue Sheep). As amazing as this show was, this may have been the highlight. My NH friend joins us on the floor and we all comment on how this has been more than a show. It has been a total body experience which I might never feel again. The hairs on my arms stood up as the frequencies rolled through my stocky frame. The drums pounded my soul into a new shape; the long drones re-defined my being. Cthulu and the Elder Gods may have truly been unleashed upon this unsuspecting Brooklyn neighborhood.
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