psychic tv / ptv3 tour dates - Beyond Tiki

H Hakalugi Special Tiki Central Agent Redondo Beach, CA Joined: Aug 10, 2004 Posts: 3465	H Hakalugi Posted posted on Sun, Oct 3, 2004 9:35 PM Yeah, a Chris and Cosey opening would be great. But unfortunately that is not the case. For LA the opening act is Babyland. Yes Throbbing Gristle in December! Unfortunately I'll have to miss that one, but I did fly out to London last May for their reunion gig at the Astoria. It was a phenomenal show and the LOUDEST show I've ever witnessed (second place goes to My Bloody Valentine). The bass emanations were so powerful it seemed like they were keeping you suspended in the air. My hair was literally blowing in the wind. Mind you I was in the center of the hall too, not next to a bass bin. Nevertheless, anybody that has the least bit of curiosity about true Industrial Music should make an effort to see Throbbing Gristle. They are after all the one's that started and named the genre. Here's a review of the TG astoria show: http://musicfortorching.blogspot.com/archives/2004_05_01_musicfortorching_archive.html Here's an excerpt: Things take a bit of time to warm up, due to faulty equipment. Soon enough though, a sonic force field is emitted from the PA. The face crushing loudness is made up of heavy computer generated bass tones that vibrate and oscillate making the fabric of the building creak and groan in protest. Mr P. Orridge appears to be torn between maintaining an ironic anti-nostalgia position to the whole thing, or whether to just let rip and freak out. Lyric pages are disdainfully flipped thorough and displayed as iconic fetishes, Genesis utilises dismissive effeminate hand flourishes like he's just popped out to the nail parlour for a buff and polish. He tousles his Brian Jones hairdo and seems like he is trying to connect with the situation he's found himself in. It certainly feels like an evocation is being attempted. The grinding, looping drones build and build towards a dread embedded Höllenspektakel as Cosey adds sharp edged skronks from death-trumpet. Meanwhile Mr P Orridge attacks his bass guitar with a bottle and the other two members increase the pressure by throwing in found sounds, and alarming white noise filter sweeps. As is the way, the venue is extremely hot, a DVD is being filmed, and we are all lit up with strong spotlights. I have to confess to being rather disappointed that the TG gang were just doing a set of old songs and wondered how this was any different to say a Sex Pistols reunion or Showaddwaddy at Pontins. Cynic that I am, I wondered if they really had just done it to test out brand awareness and future marketing opportunities. Then about three songs in, the whole thing clicked into place and it was really like watching a mutant toxic-funk band with Gen as the anti-James Brown. The four members of TG syncopate together and generate a lovely tribal squelch of a sound that was pulsing and alive and also situated at the heart of an over populated, over polluted, post-superstate Exxon world. Compulsive, ugly and sickly, the spectacle was also glittering, pretty and engaging. And I think it was this combination that really kicked Gen into touch as he launched himself off into another place and became this compelling hybrid of Dusty Springfield, Iggy, and Disco Dave. The young person next to me screams "This is Fucking Beautiful" and I wonder if that's the point. Meanwhile a Japanese American woman dances with a tiny stuffed rabbit (dunno if it was the boogaloo or not), two Germans put in earplugs, and someone else gets their tits out. People sway in psych ward trances and it all gets very intense for 90 shape-shifting, brain crunching minutes. ... Genesis P Orridge pulls a truly demonically physical performance from somewhere within himself and in some ways it's what I imagine multiple personality disorder is like: he's howling and twisting and shouting. Everything feeds back in on itself and fragments outwards simultaneously. Sweat, scars and feverish mania threaten to explode into violence as the shamanistic boundaries of immersive noise are pushed to a point of collapse. Then the energy ebbs away and the "show" comes to an end. A masterful exercise in control. So, I arrived, I saw TG, I endured, I survived. My final thoughts as I left were a) I'm glad I did that, and b) Genesis for Prime Minister. http://www.throbbing-gristle.com/ [ Edited by: Hakalugi 2005-07-22 06:54 ]

Yeah, a Chris and Cosey opening would be great. But unfortunately that is not the case. For LA the opening act is Babyland.

Yes Throbbing Gristle in December! Unfortunately I'll have to miss that one, but I did fly out to London last May for their reunion gig at the Astoria. It was a phenomenal show and the LOUDEST show I've ever witnessed (second place goes to My Bloody Valentine). The bass emanations were so powerful it seemed like they were keeping you suspended in the air. My hair was literally blowing in the wind. Mind you I was in the center of the hall too, not next to a bass bin. Nevertheless, anybody that has the least bit of curiosity about true Industrial Music should make an effort to see Throbbing Gristle. They are after all the one's that started and named the genre.

Here's a review of the TG astoria show:
http://musicfortorching.blogspot.com/archives/2004_05_01_musicfortorching_archive.html

Here's an excerpt:

Things take a bit of time to warm up, due to faulty equipment. Soon enough though, a sonic force field is emitted from the PA. The face crushing loudness is made up of heavy computer generated bass tones that vibrate and oscillate making the fabric of the building creak and groan in protest. Mr P. Orridge appears to be torn between maintaining an ironic anti-nostalgia position to the whole thing, or whether to just let rip and freak out.

Lyric pages are disdainfully flipped thorough and displayed as iconic fetishes, Genesis utilises dismissive effeminate hand flourishes like he's just popped out to the nail parlour for a buff and polish. He tousles his Brian Jones hairdo and seems like he is trying to connect with the situation he's found himself in. It certainly feels like an evocation is being attempted.

The grinding, looping drones build and build towards a dread embedded Höllenspektakel as Cosey adds sharp edged skronks from death-trumpet.

Meanwhile Mr P Orridge attacks his bass guitar with a bottle and the other two members increase the pressure by throwing in found sounds, and alarming white noise filter sweeps. As is the way, the venue is extremely hot, a DVD is being filmed, and we are all lit up with strong spotlights.

I have to confess to being rather disappointed that the TG gang were just doing a set of old songs and wondered how this was any different to say a Sex Pistols reunion or Showaddwaddy at Pontins. Cynic that I am, I wondered if they really had just done it to test out brand awareness and future marketing opportunities. Then about three songs in, the whole thing clicked into place and it was really like watching a mutant toxic-funk band with Gen as the anti-James Brown.

The four members of TG syncopate together and generate a lovely tribal squelch of a sound that was pulsing and alive and also situated at the heart of an over populated, over polluted, post-superstate Exxon world. Compulsive, ugly and sickly, the spectacle was also glittering, pretty and engaging. And I think it was this combination that really kicked Gen into touch as he launched himself off into another place and became this compelling hybrid of Dusty Springfield, Iggy, and Disco Dave.

The young person next to me screams "This is Fucking Beautiful" and I wonder if that's the point. Meanwhile a Japanese American woman dances with a tiny stuffed rabbit (dunno if it was the boogaloo or not), two Germans put in earplugs, and someone else gets their tits out. People sway in psych ward trances and it all gets very intense for 90 shape-shifting, brain crunching minutes.

... Genesis P Orridge pulls a truly demonically physical performance from somewhere within himself and in some ways it's what I imagine multiple personality disorder is like: he's howling and twisting and shouting. Everything feeds back in on itself and fragments outwards simultaneously. Sweat, scars and feverish mania threaten to explode into violence as the shamanistic boundaries of immersive noise are pushed to a point of collapse. Then the energy ebbs away and the "show" comes to an end. A masterful exercise in control.

So, I arrived, I saw TG, I endured, I survived.

My final thoughts as I left were a) I'm glad I did that, and b) Genesis for Prime Minister.

http://www.throbbing-gristle.com/

[ Edited by: Hakalugi 2005-07-22 06:54 ]

Post #117844 by Hakalugi on Sun, Oct 3, 2004 9:35 PM