So the concert was announced for 21:00 and there was an opening act, and I arrived 20:45 and the opening act had already finished his set. I asked some people and nobody had known that something would be going on before 21:00. What are the organisers thinking?? Can't they announce 20:00 or 20:15 if something will start at this point? Sorry Norman Westberg, I would've been curious and open minded, but couldn't unfortunately follow your set as I didn't know...
Anyway, I was really there for Swans of course. The Teatro Duse is a fully seated elegant theatre, and the seats are not exactly optimal for somebody 1.90m tall like me. When Swans started, I thought for some time that this wasn't going to work that well. Not because the band did anything wrong but rather because the venue wasn't quite right for their (at least for me) very physical music. The distance I had from the stage in the gallery didn't exactly help. But by the time Swans had finished their long opener (some 25 minutes I think) and Michael Gira was asking people to stand up and move forward, I already decided to not walk down and risk to potentially miss a few minutes of their music just for standing, and standing closer. No, they had already occupied my attention to the extent that I wouldn't change my position.
Music can have many directions but I do think that there is a direction in which Swans are the most extreme band in the world. Their music is most violent, but not violent as in criminal human on human violence, rather like a tsunami or hurricane, like a flood that takes down everything in its way. I was thinking that there were catastrophic flood events close to Bologna some two weeks before the event, so is it fine for music to emulate that? But of course the music of Swans makes nobody die or lose their homes, it's just the impressive energy that they're transmitting that almost knows no limit. Well actually it does because suddenly Gira can stop a track going on in full swing up to that point, and also chances are they had a contractual obligation to finish 23:15 or so (after maybe 130 minutes) and they had the discipline to do that (or maybe they needed to finish 23:00 and they ran over by a bit, I don't know).
Anyway, when going ahead at full power, it seems there cannot be any thought or coordination and nothing can go in their way. It's an almost superhuman power that they develop, still the truth is there is composition and coordination, there is the tightness necessary for turning the energy up like this (the river in the too small bed becomes most dangerous when water is on its way, as people in Emilia-Romagna know all too well these days).
What they play is quite repetitive and often rather simple in structure, even though more subtle details can be found in the individual parts. There is obviously quite a bit of freedom for the musicians to let things flow, even though Gira pulls the strings regarding ebb and flow and major changes. This is how it works, the raw energy doesn't allow for all too intellectual elaboration. In my work and daily life I have to think of too many things, and often enough I can't do what I want and have to make decisions between several things that need to be prioritised and done when none of them allows me to really let go. In a Swans concert I feel that there are no considerations of anything other than what is going on right now, and things really roll and take me with them. This kind of thing is really special, and a very basic human need I think (even though I also think that many would find things far too noisy, or too monotone, or too dark, and some even too scary, but it at least won't ruin their home, promise... maybe their ears, a bit).
Actually, they start and end at full energy, some of which actually a proper noise held together by the wall of sound rather than a rhythm or harmony, but it can also be rhythmic and occasionally surprisingly groovy. In between there are some calmer tracks, maybe even meditative or pastoral, still however flowing with energy. Gira gives the high priest or necromancer; he doesn't actually sing of natural disasters (which is what the music sounds like as you have realised by now), rather he sings of love and other emotions, probably also about sex (yeah the music does connect to sex but probably not the kind of sex that happens in most bedrooms most of the time), though I didn't get it all. Anyway, also the calmer tracks are repetitive and build up an intense atmosphere in best psychedelic/kraut/post rock tradition (but go further in intensity) rather than having a transparent song structure. This would work in some kind of church though.
Gira, by the way, played an acoustic guitar all night as already mostly on leaving meaning; it makes the more recent material in some way less sharp and more organic/nature-like than their 2010s period (sharpness is not what makes a tsunami). A number of tracks comes with two drummers.
Well you have already guessed it, I liked this; a very special evening for me and most of the audience even if maybe not for everyone. Another pretty old band, but this one still at the height of their powers. I love their albums, however this kind of music has a whole different quality performed live. When it comes to intensity, this is pretty much as high as it gets.
Instead of a live photo of the Swans I show how the river here looked like on 12 May, some 7 minutes by foot from my home. This is normally rather a small creek and there is a footpath and a little park buried by the floods. Luckily nobody's home was flooded and nobody had to be evacuated around here; 20 minutes further (OK by bike) some people were not that lucky. A Swans live experience is something like this, minus the worries and the destruction.
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