Deerhunter at the Dome

Deerhunter at the Dome

19 September, 2008
by: Domzig

There's always a problem if you're a band like Deerhunter when you play in the UK and it's this – people in Britain like to get munted and party on a Friday night and if you're a band that make spaced out dream pop, making them pay attention for one and a half hours is always going to be tricky.

It doesn't help when you're support band is minimal drone though. That's for sure. We're in the Dome for about five minutes before they start, and have the good mood built up over some amazing chips and ruinously cheap beer shattered by some of the spookiest noise music we've heard since we put that Brian Eno through our shit stereo that turns everything to mud. Don't get me wrong, everybody loves a bit of ambient weirdness now-and-then, but not after a week of staring blankly at a computer screen.

Thankfully Seabear turn up and rescue us from our vacant, shell shocked stares with a set of amazingly wonky indie pop that moves from kaleidoscope dream pop to country hoe downs almost at will. Lazily prowling the stage and randomly picking up instruments, I'm lead to believe this Icelandic combo are the nicest people in the world,  having the same effect of giving everyone a big hug and a cup of tea. I was a bit stressed out before, but now I'm totally fine.

I think now is the time to mention that I find Deerhunter slightly perplexing – sometimes they can be amazing and other times they can seem a little flat and just stand around looking bored/angry. Luckily they're in full cosmic journey mode tonight and they breeze through a great set of ambient, expansive music that drifts, soars and wanders through a galaxy of sound.

I've invented a new genre tonight: Space gazing, because that what Deerhunter are – the most massive sounding beard band out there.

Just when it seems like it's time to pack it up and call it a night, Bradford Cox returns on stage to introduce a New York art-punk duo called Puttin' On The Ritz. That kicks off what turns out to be one of the weirdest half hours of music I've ever witnessed. In effect the band play covers of old swing classics to just the accompaniment of drums and vocals – but it goes much further than that, and during a spirited rendition of 'Dream Angel' the drummer only goes and sticks the high – hat stand up his ass in what is one of the grossest, yet most punk rock moments of my life.

And this used to be such a respectable website…

Find out about more stuff that's going on at The Boston Arms elesewhere on the site. Upset the Rhythm also put regular gigs on at the Scala and Barden's Boudoir. Go to some, we frickin' love these guys.

Domzig