Broken Bow

It’s not often that a concert ends with a high chance of the entire audience being arrested.

To be honest, I was a little apprehensive about going to see Godspeed You! Black Emperor (aside: I really hope that the next release sees them change their name to Godspeed! You! Black! Emperor!, just for old-time YS/AP hilarity); their image suggests that they live together in a long-abandoned railway shack on the outskirts of Montreal preparing for the oncoming apocalypse. I was concerned whether seeing them live would break some of the mystery behind their music. Silly, I know.

It took them over half-an-hour to set up. There's nine members (five! guitarists!); everybody has a ridiculous amount of effects pedals (okay, so Norsola only had three — but when was the last time you saw a cellist use an effects pedal? Eh? Eh?) that need to be checked in a certain order, two drum kits need to be miked up, there's a glockenspiel to sort out, and so on. Eventually, they finish this labourious task, and begin the performance.

At this point, I realise that it might not have been such a good idea to be right at the front (and I mean right at the front; an outstretched arm would have have touched one of the guitarist's chairs). GY!BE are loud. Very loud. And I'm standing right next to one of the main speakers. For two hours, I feel every low-frequency note played on the stage. However, any worries I have about not being able to hear for the next week are far outweighed about two minutes after the band start playing.

As I'm standing straight in front of her, I spend most of the concert watching Norsola, the cellist. I was interested in her bow technique. Honest. And her inventive use of the cello as a percussion instrument at the start of 'Moya'. Or when she broke her bow towards the end of the same song; she calmly put it back in her bag, walked over the to the side of the stage, took another one out of the equipment boxes, and went back to playing. Very very fast...

I wish I could give you a set list; I remember that they played most of f#a#∞, all of Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada, and at least the first three tracks from Levez Vous Skinny Fists Comme Antennas To Heaven!. I don't think they played anything from Yanqui U.X.O. (strange, as it's their current album UPDATE: I'm an idiot. They definitely played "09-15-00" at least. UPDATE 2: And "Rockets Fall On Rockets Fall". I told you I was bad at set lists). However, it's mostly a blur of beautiful and mesmerising music, the soundtrack from the day after WWIII; filled partly with despair, destruction, and isolation; but mostly brimming with hope. They had a white sheet in the corner of the stage upon which they projected short films: images of deserted cities, burning oil fields, collapsing chimneys; alongside sunrises, country journeys and the hand-scratched title of "Hope". 'BBF3' is accompanied by footage of recent protest marches, and the song gets a laugh from the audience as the Minidisc-provided voice of Blaise Bailey refuses to speculate about the year 2003, as he "doesn't have a mind that inhumane".

After two hours, the concert ends, and the group disappears for the pre-encore break. When they come back, they play 'Moya', and then one of the group actually gets a microphone. He (I think it was Aidan, but I'm not exactly sure) says that the next song will be their last, but that some local people had spoken to them, and they'd be meeting in the car park shortly afterwards for a parade. Everybody was invited to join them.

When the lights finally come up, people file out to the car park. There had obviously been a little planning involved (although not much; I spoke to Matt, a sound engineer at the club whom I know from my course, and he said they came up with the idea about an hour before the band went on stage); people were being given paint-tin drum and rice shakers to make as much noise as possible.

And then we marched to Chapel Hill.

It took five minutes for the first police car to turn up. Thankfully, They decided not to arrest us all for disturbing the peace; instead, they held back traffic while we walked down the main street back to the town, and blocked us off at the end of Franklin Street so the crowd couldn't advance further than the courthouse. I quietly slipped away from the crowd at 1am, because I had to see Sona about getting a lift back from Durham train station next Sunday.

They weren't hooded hermits from a deserted shack in Canada. But they were still fantastic.

Next concert: Idlewild, this Sunday. By which time, I presume my ears will have stopped ringing...