When I was a kid, I used to buy a lot of albums on little
more than whims and recommendations. Artists
as diverse as Deicide, Nine Inch Nails, Strapping Young Lad all entered the
collection during my largely girlfriend-free teenage years. I still do, but these days it’s much easier
to find out if you like someone before you buy (thanks a bunch, Internet!
Taking all of mystery out of life…), but back in 1995 you had to have some
faith that your pocket money wasn’t going to waste on something shit.
Add to that list the name Monster Magnet, whose 1995 album Dopes To Infinity was a whim purchase
gone very very right, and in the ensuing 22 years I never managed to see them
play live. Apparently 20 years since
their last visit to this postcode, the announcement of this show was a bit on
the special side. It’s probably fair to
say their output hadn’t exactly been exceptional of late, with God Says No, Monolithic Baby, 4 Way Diabolo and Mastermind not living up to the high bar set by their seminal first
4 albums. And I hadn’t even realised
that 2013’s Last Patrol even existed
until I sat down to write this article, so it’s entirely possible that this
would be a once-beloved band trading on former glories, much like the sad sight
of Everclear being terrible a few years back.
I had no reason to worry, because this turned out to be one
of those moments of rock perfection; where every note is clear as a bell, the
setlist is perfect and the band is entertaining as hell. An appropriate phrase, since Monster Magnet were
once described in the press as Hell’s own house band. Easy to see why when the Dace Wyndorf and co.
casually toss out a set full of classics. From opener ‘Dopes To Infinity’ to
ubiquitous closer ‘Space Lord’ there are grooves the size of mars and riffs so
filthy they’d make The MC5 seem prudish.
The laid-back fuzz-fest of ‘Look To Your Orb For The Warning’ rubs
shoulders with the spiky ‘I Want More’.
A particular highlight is the middle finger salute that accompanies the “I’m
never gonna work another day in my life…” chorus to ‘Powertrip’, sounding as
fresh and fun today as it did in 1997.
Naturally, the star of the show is Wyndorf. In fine voice today, he looks like Dave Grohl
would if he took a bunch of drugs and joined a biker gang, but performs with
Iggy Pop-like malleable limbs. Only occasionally
playing his guitar, he doesn’t just sing, he performs; gyrating and reaching out to the crowd, pointing at the
front row and using the word ‘baby’ like most people use commas. He is an absolute rock star, the kind they
just don’t make any more: equal parts dirty punk, and druggy stadium rock.
The set covers all the best parts of their career, taking in
‘Radiation Day’, ‘Dinosaur Vacuum’, and an epic ‘Spine Of God’. Naturally, we get ‘Negasonic Teenage Warhead’,
a song so cool Marvel named a character after it and ‘Tractor’ before they sign
off, playing that riff while Wyndorf
preaches the joy of saying “motherfucker” as they kick into the hip-shaker that
is ‘Space Lord’. They’re unlikely to
gain any new fans at this stage, which is a shame, given the dearth of talent
out there today, but for those of us who were lucky enough to be paying
attention at the time, this was a proper rock show by a proper rock band. Long
may they continue.
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