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I must confess, when The Mars Volta (or more specifically The Mars Volta Group) trudged on stage at Festival Hall last weekend, I was flummoxed. These men had nothing of the air and grace evident on Frances the Mute or Amputechture: indeed, they looked a little worse for the wear. With a vague hand-wave to the audience, Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez began a three-hour ear assault: the music that followed was loud, hard, and fairly amazing. Inserting new songs such as “Rapid Fire Tollbooth” in between a mixed bag of classics such as “Cygnus… Vismund Cygnus” and “Cicatriz ESP,” TMVG offered an almost insightful look at their own back catalogue.
However, the group seemed hell-bent on bleeding the eardrums of every member of the crowd. Half an hour into the night, I began to realize what was missing: the group had effectively eradicated the poignant subtlety they possess on their recorded efforts. Improvised guitar and drum solos are all well and good in a jam session, but the repeated occurrence of several screaming minutes of said instruments can begin to wear thin. At a few points during the night I found myself shuffling listlessly, hoping that they’d push towards the next song… and while Cedric occasionally joined in to wail along with the bass guitar, the constant, heavy drumming managed to successfully drown out Omar (and most other band members).
Speaking of the boys, both seemed to be in top form for the majority of the night. Cedric was as insane as always, running around onstage, wielding the microphone stand like a weapon, and – in one memorable incident – caterwauling through a fan into the mic itself. Omar’s guitar was (from what one could hear) near perfect, his fingers performing seemingly impossible riffs and progressions. His real shining moments, though, lay in the amazing solos he performed.
Ten-minute drum solos aside; the main problem of the night (or so I found) was the violent tendencies of the crowd. Whilst this may seem precious, being kicked in the legs isn’t my idea of fun. Kicking back managed to end this fairly swiftly, though, and those around the gathering I was with learned quickly and backed off.
The night overall was quite brilliant, but not the mind-blowing experience I had been led to expect – ridiculous sound levels and a somewhat violent crowd managed to detract a fair amount from the night. In the end, it still managed to do what every good gig should: get under the skin of every concertgoer, insert itself into his or her mind and require many repeated listening sessions.
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