all photos: from the band’s myspace
I first saw Swervedriver on their initial American tour the summer of 1991. Packed in to the old 930 Club on F street (famous for it’s barely working air conditioning) I had my mind forever altered about guitar rock and it’s possibilities with just four people on stage as we melted together in a head bobbing mess before them. Somehow lumped in with the shoegazing crowd, Swervedriver were so much more. What they managed to accomplish was akin to if Sonic Youth had listened to Merle Haggard as opposed to Glenn Branca. Their songs were multi-faceted with shifting parts and often seemed as if five classic country songs were being played all at once in a beautiful yet complex harmony. The final result was undeniably epic and modern.
Heading to the 930 Club in their new location as the temperature neared triple digits I had to wonder if the power of the music would return much in the way the weather had from that amazing night long ago. I needn’t have worried – but I did have to wait.
I caught the final two songs from Glasgow’s Terra Diablo who are managed by Swervedriver’s Jez. You could see the potential in their giant noise and thumping drums as the anglophiles shuffled in. Despite being fronted by what looks like Carrot Top’s little brother, they brought a fair amount of intensity to an opening slot. Nothing overly interesting about the songs and the vocals in particular were non-descript but when they finished by falling into one another and then regaining their composure to do a big jump into the air it seemed sincere rather than trite.
Giving way to Longwave, I was instantly struck by how insanely skinny the band was. Longwave=300 pounds=four guys. They also sported more pedals than it seemed their thin arms could carry. I like the band on record, in particular the debut album, but they never stay in my general rotation. I took an immense amount of notes during their performance as I was seemingly trying to figure out what wasn’t clicking for me. The guitars sounded amazing, especially some nice distorted bass, and the drums more than pushed things along. What ultimately struck me was that there were more washes of guitar than melodies and song structure. It was when they slightly broke the mold that they seemed to connect. Frontman Steve Schlitz certainly knows his way around a fretboard and he even sent a few Eddie Van Halenesque runs into the breaks. Where he struggles is in the melody department and vocally he is limited. On record this is often offset by backing vocals but for some reason they were virtually inaudible tonight much to my dismay.
When they showcased a new track “Sirens in the Deep Sea” his turn to falsetto was less than promising. “Shining Hours,” another new track was more engaging as it blasted free from a plodding beat to a full-fledged maelstrom of noise as they wrenched chunks of feedback out of their guitars. The semi-hits still have a power about them, most evident in “Wake Me When It’s Over,” and the way the guitars pull the key just above the vocal, but it is really only worth seeing them live for the guitar nerd that might reside inside you. The West Coast shows on the tour featured Film School as the opener and I only wish that we had been so lucky.
One really great Mohawk has been spotted in the audience. But it seems to be friends with the lone guy fist pumping and singing along to Longwave. Oh well.
The soundman plays almost the entire Afghan Whigs “Gentlemen” disc as they set up for Swervedriver. Excellent choice.
As they arrive on stage I am instantly struck by the fact that they still look very much like rockstars. I also soon remember that part of the reason that they were lumped in with the shoegazers was due to their lack of movement on stage. This is only exaggerated by the large stage that they barely move about. A few songs in they will make up for this in basic coolness that is a quality rarely seen up close but they have it in spades.
Opening with the monstrous riffs of “For Seeking Heat” they still seemed to be getting up to speed. The Gram Parsons meets Slowdive on speed of “The Birds” sends things into motion taking the intricately picked leads of Adam Frankli and Jimmy Hartridge into a cacophonous finish. “Sandblasted” quickly moves in with its monumental chord shifts. I realize that the band is still amazing at producing a narcotic, guitar-fueled haze like few others. Their rich underlying melodies buried deep and fighting their way to the top, make it obvious that they still sound like rockstars as well. “99th Dream” swirls around it’s big chunky chords and an abundance of guitar tech action is taking place before they hit “The Hitcher.” As “The Other Jesus” continues the medium pace I have a chance to say hello to musician/producer extraordinaire Chad Clark and we discuss the amazing compositional elements the band puts on display. Truly underneath the noise is five songs intricately playing out and shifting shapes into amazing peaks. Incredible.
“These Times” thumps along sweetly and “Bring Me the Head of the Fortune Teller” darkens and broods over the audience. “Girl On A Motorbike” starts the climb we are about to experience. With so many songs about travel it is only appropriate to see the band lock into the churn of the tune before wildly diverting and then right back into it. “Duel” fully engages the crowd and you can start to feel the energy in the room picking up. At the finish, the place erupts. “Never Lose That Feeling” continues our journey and I am back in the groove and when they just fucking kill it with the masterpiece that is “Rave Down” with Jez now fully smashing about his drumkit and Steve throwing off huge bass licks. I don’t think I can ask for more. “Son of Mustang Ford” proves me wrong as they tear magnificently through one of the coolest named tunes of all-time.
After that last barrage of songs alone the stage of the 930 should not host another electric guitarist for at least a week. It just wouldn’t seem right.
They exit, leaving a lone guitar and the subsequent feedback (annoying.) Encoring with “Last Train to Satansville” I forgive them with the extended workout and the cracking snare and this truly is where the five country leads converging becomes evident in all it’s glory. They disappear again and leave our already aching ears to take in some more feedback. Coming back finishing the rhythm section’s smokes, Jez thanks the crowd “small but perfectly formed” and promises one last meandering song.
“Duress” showcases Adam’s astonishing control as he literally is pulling epic tears from his guitar via whammy bar and hushed palm. It is an enthralling finish but I leave wishing they had finished with a burst rather than a wandering spooky sendoff into the night. They disrupt the vibe by leaving to feedback once again, which is finally turned off by the tech.
The guitar gods are finished; but only for the night.
cool review, John.
I took those photos. Glad you like em! Wish I could have gone to more shows too.
June 15, 2008 at 12:49 pmNice work, John! I was at that first 9:30 show (and this one, natch). I remember seeing the Poster Children (the headliners) encouraging Swervie to go past their alloted set as the crowd wanted more.
June 18, 2008 at 4:29 pmGood memory Eric! Poster Children were good but couldn’t match Swervedriver. I was totally blown away. The tour was a mess and I think there was some hub bub between the bands after their set due to some shit talking by someone in the PC camp. Swervedrivers drummer would disappear a few dates later at the canadian border (luckily bringing Jez round.) Rock and roll fun!
June 18, 2008 at 4:49 pmGreat review! It was an awesome show.
June 30, 2008 at 2:59 pm
it is moments like this: “small but perfectly formed (crowd)” that make me (kind-of) miss living in dc. they are playing 2 shows here in nyc - both are sold out. the city doesn’t give you the opportunity to debate whether or not you want to see a band…
…and if you do, do you really want to see them in an over-packed, sold-out venue?
okay. this is me justifying not getting tickets. shame on me. clearly.
June 10, 2008 at 2:24 pm