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Needless initial digression, skip ahead. Live albums tend to gross me out. The main reason is that bands usually record them when they're on a downward slope, have no ideas for new material, or need to free themselves from a contract to move to a new record label. I just save a handful, "Live at Leeds," obviously. "Metallic KO." "Live Dead," which is quite an exception because it consists of original material. Then there's the one by Airplane, the one by Bauhaus, and "Absolutely Live." And yes, maybe even the first volume of "Roadwork" is a great album. But many bands that have made rock history, from the Stones to the Clash, certainly didn't leave us with memorable live performances. For instance, I find many BBC or John Peel Sessions wonderful: from those of Hendrix to those of Joy, from those of Polly to those of Mogwai themselves. Maybe it's that playing in front of twenty people creates a special atmosphere, or simply the sound captured in radio studios is superb (for this, try listening to recordings made at French radio, the so-called Black Sessions: you will find some surprisingly intense ones).
So why am I one of the fourteen hundred fools who immediately grabbed this box set? First of all, because I am a vinyl addict. Then because I am a snob. And finally because I adore the Glasgow band.
The object that has been tickling my desires for weeks and made me smile like a kid on Christmas day when the courier rang my doorbell to deliver it, is composed of three vinyl records, the third of which contains six tracks not included in the CD, the CD itself, a DVD, and different knick-knacks, like a poster and a piece of cloth with the word Mogwai.
The concerts were recorded in April 2009 in Brooklyn, on three consecutive dates.
The accompanying graphics are a continuous stream of black and white photos, and it couldn't be otherwise. On one hand, because our friends have been practicing for years to write imaginary soundtracks for films that no one will ever make. On the other hand, because contrast has always been the group's stylistic hallmark. The quiet of the night opposed to white noise. The moonlight to dark distortion.
And, for once, I think the live performance makes sense. It's evident that Mogwai's challenge is: can you play instrumental music in front of a rock audience, managing to engage them and not bore them? I think they've won the match.
The vastness of the work compels me to make only a few notes. What's most surprising is that, for better or worse, the tracks from the latest album, "The Hawk is Howling," the most pillaged, merge perfectly with the rest. Perhaps due to those saturating fullnesses, excuse the oxymoron, that hark back to the early works. Sure, the chills down the spine come when "Mogwai Fear Satan" starts playing, or when Stuart sings "Cody." But it is certainly a merit to be able to incorporate into a single structure ("Mojo" spoke of a "monolithic monument") pieces written over a decade. "Scotland’s Shame", for example, seems like the flip side of "New Paths to Helicon pt. 1."
There are also some refinements that only band fanatics can appreciate: the particularly full-bodied bass at the end of "Like Herod" compared to the studio version. Or an emphasis on keyboards in the older tracks. But these are little details.
What matters is that fans of the quintet will find many reasons to be delighted within these grooves. And I believe that listening to this box set will bring more than one expression of bliss to their faces. The same as seen on the faces of the concert spectators shown on the DVD, the review of which I leave willingly to others. The same as recounted in the end credits by a girl: "My face was just laughing." The same as Mala likely had when, recounting one of their concerts, she wrote one of the most beautiful pages ever published on DeB "It's Ragnarok. It's the apocalypse. It's Armageddon. It's the end of days..."
"Old songs stay 'til the end. Sad songs remind me of friends".
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