Live DC: M83 / School of Seven Bells @ The Black Cat

November 17, 2008 by Phil  Send to a Friend

all photos: Irfan Khalil

            I saw M83 in Brooklyn this summer and it was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. Like, top two. I’d been trying to catch them since 2003’s stellar Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts but for whatever reason, it had never worked out. So when I saw they were playing right around me and that it was completely sold out, I sprung into action and found some crazy old woman who sold me a ticket through Craigslist. Their music, I figured, was the kind that would translate perfectly to a live setting: dreamy electronic textures, furious synth lines and huge, thumping rhythms. Despite whatever intentions I’d had going in to dance or act like a reckless idiot, I ended up unable to make any sort of movement for pretty much the entire time and just stood completely still while my brain melted and ears bled (probably). I walked out, disoriented and in disbelief at what I’d just experienced, feeling the full breadth of life’s futility and meaninglessness until a month or so later when I saw they’d be in DC in November.

            Which brings us to last night. The fact that Black Cat didn’t sell out far in advance (a few of my friends were able to buy tickets at the door right before M83 went on) was a pretty big surprise, but the room was nearly full and at a predictable 850 degrees. The opening slot was assumed by School of Seven Bells, a relatively new band featuring members from On!Air!Library! and Benjamin Curtis, formerly of the Secret Machines. As soon as they started playing, it became pretty obvious why they were chosen to open this tour: the tracks they played off their recently-released full-length Alpinisms were pretty much a more understated version of M83’s brand of pretty, noisy, glitchy whatever. True to form, the twin sisters who front the band are totally adorable and get super into it, which prevented the set from ever really getting too monotonous or interchangeable, which this kind of music can sometimes devolve into. Expect big things.

            While watching M83 set up, one might wonder why an ominous plexiglass drum casing needs to be constructed or what looks like a futuristic telephone switchboard brought on stage. They’re not just for show, believe it or not: the tight, 80’s drum sound the shell allows for and modular synthesizer frontman Anthony Gonzales molests during the set are an integral part of M83’s sound and go a long way towards making the performance the expansive, atmospheric event the band is clearly going for. It’s hard to talk about this kind of show because I’ll sound like an idiot if I just say every song was a highlight, so how about this:

a)      “Moonchild” made me feel like I was swimming in a cathedral made of electricity.

b)      For much of its duration, the revamped, sample-laden version of Dead Cities’ “Gone” has a melody which consists of exactly one note. And somehow, when it swells after five minutes or so, you understand, all at once, 4.5 billion years of heartbreak and loss.

c)      I had never seen M83 perform my favorite song of theirs, “Teen Angst” before. And then last night, I did. I don’t know if I’m synesthesic or what, but I couldn’t visualize anything else during it besides swirls of bright primary blues, yellows and reds. It felt like taking a bath in a tub full of lightning.

d)      “Skin of the Night” features ethereal background vocals from Gonzales and a breath-taking performance by keyboardist Morgan Kibby that was one of the most gripping things to witness all night. If robots sang opera, they’d probably sound like her.

Not to mention the show-stopping finale “A Guitar and A Heart,” which steadily builds from what sounds like the soundtrack to a chase scene between those awesome, stylized motorcycles from Tron to a full-on, pounding techno rave-up with more retarded, sweet drum fills than anything you can imagine. By the end of the song, everyone nearly collapsed and took what seemed like a few minutes before even being able to muster up the energy to clap for an encore. When their request was granted, the band closed out the night with an exuberant version of Saturdays=Youth’s “Couleurs.” Granted, they weren’t perfect. Newer songs like “Kim & Jessie” felt positively anemic next to barn-burners like “Don’t Save Us From The Flames” and “*.” Then again, you know how when a band plays a really epic song and the last minute or so gets huge and you feel like you’re going to die so you just stare at your feet and then you’re upset because it ends way too early? M83 doesn’t play you like that; the sprawling, enveloping outros keep on coming, the wall of sound persisting until there’s nothing left inside you. And they do it on every song.

I saw M83 two weeks after fucking Radiohead and, honestly, I was left scratching at head at which was better. For me, they represent the best elements any kind of music can incorporate: thick, gauzy layers of guitar and synth, dancability, mind-bogglingly gorgeous melodies. They’re one of my favorite bands and delivered a performance so transcendent that I’m not even sure I can do it justice. Reviews where you just blow the artist for 1,000 words are frustrating to write and I feel like they come off a certain way, but holy shit. I hope M83 records another 92 albums and goes on tour for the each of them. I can’t remember the last time a show left me so affected and I’m literally jumping out of my skin to see them again. If that isn’t an endorsement, I don’t know what is.

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