Kicking off the music was Japanese hip hop group Dos Monos who came on doing a fun Beastie Boys pass-the-mic type thing complete with mad vaporwavey net.art graphics in the background. Next came Black Midi who were in fine fettle, opening the show with the bombastic, boxing announcer fanfare of the new album track Sugar Tzu. Between the injustice dealt to the band by the aforementioned venue sound, the night seemed to lack the raw intimacy you need with a band like this. Ticket and merch sales are a lifeline for all touring bands now, and the commercial choice to sacrifice playing a smaller independent venue like The Cluny meant the band's live experience seemed a bit lost.
There were moments of flare and silliness with track 'John L' intermixed with a crowd pleasing jam of not one, but TWO Sting/The Police songs. The crowd at a Black Midi show are your typical softboi/art bro ephemera; skinny, awkward, malnourished men half observing with cool detachment, the other half desperate to start the world's safest mosh pit. Between bands and songs, several in attendance, my +1 and I included, chose to airdrop memes back and forth to strangers, which made the venue problems all the more tolerable.
You couldn't place their collective musical references in one place
As a one-time Black Midi superfan-turned casual enjoyer, I was really hyped for this gig. Over many lockdown nights 2020-21, my house mate Phil and I passed our hours not being allowed to play out or meet girls legally by drinking pint cans of Kronenbourg 1664 (were there really blokes cutting around drinking Kronenbourg in 1664?) in our uni house while casting YouTube videos to the TV or playing records really loud.
One fateful night we came across Black Midi playing a Boiler Room set and they quickly became my new favourite band. They were tight as fuck. Their drummer Morgan Simpson was like a metronome. You couldn’t place their collective musical references in one place. They were equal parts Sonic Youth, The Fall, Shellac, Captain Beefheart, blah blah blah… you get where I’m going with it. All the greats. And they tied it all up in this weird, avant-garde free jazz jam session type package complete with unusual time signatures, math rocky staccato guitar stabs and mad stream-of-consciousness gibberish courtesy of frontman Geordie Greep.
I loved that band, and to their credit, they still performed like that band on the night. But this wasn't the venue to hear them in.
