Godspeed You Black Emperor!
Live @ 40 Watt Club - Athens

The Godspeed is a quiet band. They enter the stage in silence (even if the crowd is in a frenzy), exactly like they entered the recording scene.

(Parenthesis:

Quite an elitist phenomenon, theirs. It certainly cannot be said that they are known to a wide audience. Their first studio recording is a cassette limited to a few copies, absolutely unattainable; the first official work, "F#A#oo", was definitely not a great success. Few own their (magnificent) EP "Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada". A little more widespread is "Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven". And those who know the latter will surely have come across their latest work, "Yanqui U.X.O.", their consecration.

In total, let's say, 4 albums. Little else is available about their history: a semi-official live (not on cd), "Tiny Silver Hammers", and this "Live @ 40 watt club", Athens (the recording of which is entrusted, under permission, to a fan in the middle of the crowd). A little too little for such an extraordinary band, if I may.

Close parenthesis)

In short, they enter the stage, start and tune the instruments (they certainly don't have staff doing it for them). Then they start playing. It's a bit of a magical moment.

I listen to pieces like "Rockets Fall On Rocket Falls" (the heart of the latest "studio"), "Dead Metheny" (an excerpt from "Providence" from the first album), "09-15-00", I also get an unreleased called "Albanian", then "World Police And Friendly Fire" (excerpt from "Skinny Fists"), "Blaise Bailey Finnegan III" and the amazing finale "Moya", one of the most beautiful pieces they have written.

Then they exit, in silence as they entered. And like soon after, they exited the musical scene.

Two hours went by like that, suspended between ecstasy and oppression. And thinking:

1. that probably I (like everyone) will never (again) see them live;
2. that all I will get, besides the studio albums, is this,

a little tear wells up in me.

I believe anyone who knows this band feels a bit in mourning. The only word that comes to mind is that word, the only word the "Gybe" have clearly expressed. HOPE. A call in the first and last albums (and in this live), a melancholic word that, amidst the apocalyptic music of this band, kills.

We have lost the rock incarnation of this century. Adjust as best as you can.