FUTURE PROOF/EVERYWHEN/RISINGSON/BLACK MILK/ANGEL/SPECIAL CASES/BUTTERFLY CAUGHT/HYMN OF THE BIG WHEEL/TEARDROP/NAME TAKEN/MEZZANINE/SAFE FROM HARM/INERTIA CREEPS/ANTISTAR/UNFINISHED SYMPATHY/GROUP FOUR
thanks to philmanns for the
excellent photography.
You haven't done anything for nearly five years and need to quickly re-establish
your importance as the world's leading force in alternative/dance crossover.
Five night's trip hopping at Brixton is always a good start.Bristol City, the
home of "a nice rack", a cheesy hospital drama and..... well, that's
about it if you don't count that tiny insignificant little genre dubbed Trip-Hop
which blew up some years back with the help of local residents Tricky, Portishead,
and, by far-and-away the most important, Massive Attack.
New LP '100th Window'
was released recently under the weight of so much anticipation that practically
anything would have been a letdown. Over four years since the release of landmark
groundbreaker 'Mezzanine', without Grant Marshall and under the shadow of 3D's
farcical police investigation for child porn, Massive Attack now stand at a
crossroads. How to suddenly switch everyone back on to their existence and convince
them of their relevance once again? Well, an unprecedented five night residency
at London's premier music venue always helps.
Though their new record may have forgotten to include killer, nay 'instant'
singles, ('Future Proof' is only now beginning to unravel its full genius, opening
the show tonight); they haven't forgotten how to put on a show. Their touring
neon zoo concentrates instead on recreating the dark electric paranoia of the
new album by wrapping a warped mix of binary code and animations around peoples'
retinas whilst playing Laserquest with the lighting rig. There's a tip: Anyone
got old relatives with cataracts? Take em to see Massive Attack, that'll fix
it, and save a lot of waiting time.
When that unmistakable undulating subterranean bass begins, feeling like a gigantic
volcanic pulse beneath one's feet; they entertain a couple of tracks from the
new album with front-man Robert '3-D' Del Naja vocals sounding strong, especially
on 'Everywhere'. But the horror show really begins when Horace Andy steps up,
his deep resonant vocals building to 'that' crescendo of the familiar anthem
'Angel'. He continues to please with 'Name Taken' and a storming 'Every Man'.
'Daddy G' Marshall arrives next, to obvious crowd approval, bringing his unique
talents to 'Rising Son', amongst others. His brooding intensity and a feeling
that something really nasty is about to happen linger overhead like the sticky
low ozone eminated by the whole mood of the gig.
Yet just before we've had the chance to be totally immersed in absolute darkness,
suffocating in Del Naja's obvious digital depression, the breathless beauty
in the voice of Dot Alison drags you out by your heart strings. The flourishing
magnificence of 'Teardrop' and 'Black Milk' leave a feeling of pure tranquillity.
The vocal highlight without a doubt.
Throughout the performance a huge screen on which Matrix-style numbers scroll
is interrupted intermittently by an international league table of military spending,
stock exchange rates and headlines from around the world. 3D is a high profile
anti-war protestor and whilst it's nice to see a band showing political awareness,
having it rammed down your brain stem throughout the entire two-hour set is
pushing it a bit. It's this overawing sense of 'anti- everything' which detracts
from the gig. This year's Creamfields headliners remind us all of the good times,
but it's as if they need reminding themselves. It's not like they have to live
in Bristol any more.
Article by: Andrew Future, Duncan Hall
