Photographs by Neil Van.
This is the third time I have reviewed a Deafheaven show. From the time I interviewed George Clarke until now, I have only caught a glimpse of a composed gentleman. I am used to the demonic flailing that the self destructive Clarke shows on stage. For the first two shows, I had yet to see Clarke reveal his calm side in public. I only witnessed this restraint back stage as he answered my questions. I’m also used to seeing Deafheaven perform with lighter opening bands: The kind of indie rock or fun metal that prepares you for the multi-avenue music they create.
At a jam packed Adelaide Hall, we were due to get the Canadian punk rock collage White Lung, but there was a last minute change. Instead, we got the darkwave anarchists Cold Cave, who performed with your required projector at any industrial show. I have not seen a more fitting opener for Deafheaven than this project. That’s because these projected images either put the bright and damaging spotlight on Cold Cave, or it cast them out into a distorted oblivion. This was the deconstruction of sanity, both through the removal of an image and the overloading emphasis on the same image. They had words plastered on them and shots of waves, flames and downpours of rain. It was a Nine Inch Nails music video come to life (or, rather, death).
On album, Cold Cave are fun yet intense. Live, this intensity takes over, where you feel the sheer force of anguish trample you while the small dregs of catchiness hang on to you so they can survive (your safety is not necessary). Wesley Eisold jumped around like a stiff anchor that crashed as he landed, as there was rage within every step. There was hurt and anger in his stare, but his words came out as optimistically tragic as Robert Smith’s would. The only joy comes from the “I suppose this shall pass” attitude that Eisold’s voice carries, because everything else was a pixelated bloodbath. Cold Cave are a dark party on album, but they are a cheerful-yet-corrosive death live. What a great way to end the night and start the next day.
Deafheaven came out afterwards with a quick tune up (as they are always as punctual as they can be). This was the moment where I finally saw George Clarke acting more like a mortal human and less like a pained soul. He crouched down and asked the front row how their night was so far. Usually, I’ve seen Clarke command the crowd whilst discharge his biological and emotional excess, but it was nice to be reminded of that same guy that sat down with me. It was nice, because this was probably the most far gone I’ve ever seen Clarke. During the actual show, he was more self damning than ever before. His shrieks have not been higher (not to these ears) and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. I thought he cast out everything he could muster before, but I was wrong. Clarke was damaged, and he was hurting. Some of his screams were hurting me, never mind him. At one point, he even forced himself to throw up to get whatever was bugging him out of his system. He refused to let a momentary sickness stop him, so he finished the job himself. Like the turmoil on album, this, too, passed, and he carried on like the fighter he is. Cold Cave had the breaking down of a human implied, yet Deafheaven had this fear become a reality.
The band’s music was as tight as it always is. They played the kind of set you’d be familiar with if you’ve seen any Deafheaven show since their 2013 epic Sunbather. You started off with Dream House, you heard Irresistible go off while the band prepares for the next song, they kicked into Sunbather, had Please Remember lead into the non-album-switcharoo From The Kettle Unto The Coil, and so forth. Their set lists are standard, because most of their set feeds off of the emotional spewing from the crowd. Crowd surfers were lifted high enough that they would clip the sound proofing on the ceiling and land on their necks as they fell. If anything, these crowd surfers acted more like battering rams that were heaved and pushed, back and forth, at both the band and the back of the venue. If you were lifted, you were most likely not being put down anytime soon. At 1 in the morning, everyone was awake enough to fight the band and have them fight back, too. Two years after Sunbather, the album continues to be a charged inspiration for many walks of life, and this combustible crowd was evidence of that. Deafheaven are always on point, and both them and Cold Cave did NXNE proud with their biological shattering of a club show.
