To open for a band like Deafheaven, it’d be hard to encompass the genres they evoke without stealing the show (or making it stale, even). The carefully selected opening acts were great choices, because we got the best of both worlds here. In fact, the order they appeared was well organized as well. We had heavy metal duo Indian Handcrafts start the show with a bang to get everyone moving. We had shoegaze group No Joy sandwiched in the middle of the two bands to set a mood and invest the crowd emotionally. The two bands were complete opposites, and they both put on a pretty good set each. As a combined effort, they did a fantastic job and it’d be hard to think of a more fitting introduction to Deafheaven on this very tour.
Indian Handcrafts were out of control. Their precision was on point, but it felt as though they were teetering on the edge of a wobbly stool the entire time. All of their songs were a lot of fun, and their personalities weren’t far from that same notion. Brandyn Aikins received a complaint when someone from the crowd questioned why he had Phil Collins’ face plastered onto his bass drum. Aikins joyfully replied that he is a fan of Collins’ earlier, more technical work with Genesis. With Daniel Allen’s guitar being stamped with a sticker of the band The Melvins’ logo, neither of these two bearded men are shy about their influences. They weren’t shy about the crowd either, as they talked with audience members fairly often. They even decided to throw in a few extra songs (so it seems, unless they have a convincing act) at the end of their set due to popular demand. With angry vocals, vituperative drumming and calamitous guitars, Indian Handcrafts felt held together by the passion the two musicians shared; Otherwise it was a car going 180 with no one at the wheel (and was it ever a real damn thrill).
No Joy, while not being joyless, were radically different. They weren’t boring, but they weren’t going out of their way to be entertaining either. That wasn’t their goal. They were there to make atmosphere, and they did so very well. They played song after song with virtually not a single word uttered to the audience in between songs (not from what I can remember, anyways). There wasn’t any banter. There wasn’t a loss of control. Interestingly, though, where Indian Handcraft’s music was unrestrained yet anchored, No Joy’s osculating drone soared away from the fixed melodies. We didn’t hang on for dear life: We watched as sounds flittered away into the space around us. No Joy’s set was a delectable one, because it felt like a dream that took us away in between sets. The band came, they performed, and they left without a single instance of interaction. Did they even exist? They felt like a magic trick everyone wanted to see be performed again, but it was already over and done with. No Joy put everyone into a reflective and calming mood before Deafheaven, and Indian Handcrafts put the subconscious need to go berserk into our hearts.
