Category Archives: GIG review

The Brian Jonestown Massacre

Manchester UK 14.02.2025

View of the front Albert Hall with the big organ

The Brian Jonestown Massacre, better at home.

Oh well, I am excited for this one, and here I go, off on another big rock night in the city—this time to see The Brian Jonestown Massacre at the Albert Hall. The venue is structurally marvelous, a grand reminder of Victorian architecture. Even though the building isn’t the best for acoustics, it offers a solid 2,500-person capacity and great views from every spot—especially of the stunning church organ crowning the stage.

The night begins with a psychedelic guitar intro, leading into a melodic tune by Les Big Byrd, the Swedish supporting band. Their set is filled with dramatic synthesizers, robust drumming, and the sexy energy of frontman Joakim Ahlund, who starts singing after the second track with a raspy, deep voice. I feel like this will put us in the right mood to enjoy BJM. Their 30-minute set is packed with hyper-mad guitars, harmonies, and metallic synths that, at times, spiral into frenzied revolutions. The band is tight, and their performance takes us on a journey, balancing soft and hard moments of excitement that transcend the stage. Ahlund, looking sculptural, holds his guitar in the air multiple times, amplifying this sweet cookie of psychedelia and garage rock.

As we reach the final 10-minute song, it begins at a slow pace, pulling us into a beautiful jungle of rhythm guitars, melting our souls into a river of cosmic noise. We’ve been clapping and cheering after every track, and as the band wraps up, they thank and greet the crowd. This trip to a magic wonderland ends with the softest keyboard strumming, rocking us like a lullaby.

Time flies as the stage is rearranged, while BJM’s recorded music plays over the speakers. And just as the clock strikes 9, I count seven cowboys taking the stage, all in jeans and dark sunglasses, stepping into a dimly lit red haze that will remain unchanged for most of the show. The crowd is so excited that we give them a standing ovation before they even play a note. They stand sweetly, with big smiles, waving into the void, where the dark crowd cheers and claps. The first sounds we hear come from the keyboard, which gently merges with the audience’s excitement before slowly fading our voices out.

The first song feels like a warm-up, with steady and tight guitars. The energy begins to build—we are burning for them, ready to fly along with their flames—but suddenly, at the end of the first song (and, unfortunately, at the end of most of them), the entire band falls silent. They stare into the distance, looking lost, while the sound techs do their job. They barely interact with each other or the audience. This cold, detached atmosphere lingers for the entire two-hour set, making it difficult to get into the flow of a performance that feels fractured.

Hoping it was just an issue with the sound check, I try to remain patient. But by the third song, they stop mid-performance. “Sorry about that.” At this moment, Anton Newcombe finally addresses us—because he has no other choice. He mentions Valentine’s Day, thanks us for being there, and says he loves us. But throughout the night, he only speaks a couple more times—to remind us that they’re musicians and they’re here to play, or to complain about the inefficiency of social media for musicians, which keeps pushing the same mainstream artists over and over again.

I was surprised that technical difficulties and sluggish execution dominated a night where the music was played with precision yet extreme calmness by every member of the band. From the very beginning, I could feel the crowd’s energy—we were eager to dance, connect, feel their music, and vibrate with them. However, the long pauses between songs and the band’s passivity slowly spread yawns through the audience. The atmosphere felt tedious. I was shocked that this dynamic remained unchanged for the entire two exhausting hours.

Halfway through the concert, there was another very long pause. The lights came on, and they asked for medical assistance for someone in the crowd. Over an hour in, and it seemed like the energy wanted to take off—but that dreadful feeling just wouldn’t go away. The only spark I could hold onto was the guitarist, who danced endlessly like a snake, empowering his 12-string guitar.

This is a band I had been wanting to see for a long time, and it made me sad to realize that I just wanted to leave. The only reason I didn’t was because I wanted to be able to tell you how it ended—or if anything changed. I wasn’t expecting one of those infamous on-stage riots they’re known for, but I’ve seen dead flies with more charm and engagement.

That being said, there were a couple of good moments—when Ahlund returned to perform a song with the band, the energy shifted drastically, and the Hall came alive, raging for it. And then, suddenly, without warning, after two hours on stage, they finished playing—hardly saying goodbye, as if it weren’t their concern that we were all still standing there, patiently waiting to be tossed a drop of juice.

It really upset me that I had been looking forward to experiencing their music live, and they offered nothing but an “okay” delivery of their songs. No feeling, no sentiment, no expression. Hidden in the darkness of the red neon lights for the entire set, the band members seemed lost between songs. After more than 25 years, a band with so much potential has endless possibilities in terms of lighting, stage design, and visuals—and none of those were fulfilled in this performance.

Next time, I’d rather stay home with a beer in one hand and a Rollie in the other.

Artwork by Maitane Hermosa

ink, A4

words, photography and drawings by Maitane Hermosa

Article for Fluxmagazine.com

https://www.fluxmagazine.com/the-brian-jonestown-massacre-better-at-home/

Twin Suns at Retro.

Manchester 2024

I must admit that I arrived late. I must have missed the debut concert of a young band with an average age of 18 that was making their first appearance on stage. Playing at Retro for the first time is a luxury. This young band, the Dassins, with some magnificent videos on YouTube, sound great, and I hope to see them soon.

I arrived when the Sarcoline band was preparing their guitars on stage, and everything was ready. The atmosphere was electric, and the venue was half full. The temperature kept rising as the band started playing. I didn’t take many notes because I couldn’t stop dancing and vibing to a very controlled, fresh sound with echoes of old-school rock and surf. Vibrant music with character, where each member exuded magnificent synchronicity as a whole. Towards the end of the concert, their leader and singer was headbanging, shaking his sweat-soaked hair, a fantastic silhouette in this room with red, blue, and green neon lights, giving their concert the most authentic and punky touch.

During the intermission, I thought about how lucky I was to see them just a few feet away, witnessing the majesty of each member facing the audience, giving their best through their music and receiving love in return.

Something the next band couldn’t quite pull off. Jack’s Saving Grace was like a melting ice cream in early summer. A band that’s okay to listen to, but I realized something was off: an opening act surpassing the main performers on stage. JSG had a very indie musical vibe, pure Manchester, soft rock with a couple of songs that make you dance. They dedicated “Sexy” to the women in the audience. They had a couple of comments that seemed more focused on finding a date through music rather than the music itself. Calling the audience sexy just seemed like a playful joke, but it felt outdated, a cry for attention. The best don’t need to beg for applause; they just go out and perform. The last two songs were decent but didn’t quite take me to the edge (of excitement). It annoys me when a band tries to “make the audience clap more” because they’re not satisfied with the level of applause. A sudden need for attention, something I suspected from the beginning. True leaders don’t need that ego boost; they simply do their best.

As for the last band, the supposed star of the gig, Twin Suns, was one of the most disappointing performances I’ve ever seen at a concert from the very beginning.

The situation we faced as the audience yesterday not only made me not dance but also made me scream with anxiety in the bathroom and continuously vomit things into my notebook.

They took the stage, looking somewhat Californian. Their leader, before starting to play, began shouting at the crowd almost threateningly to make noise, referencing how the first band had their first public performance, which was very aggressive. Seeing those bored kids sitting in a corner of the bar from the moment I arrived until that moment when they stood in the front row watching this band was disturbing.

I’ve decided to transcribe my extreme frustration word for word because this leader deserves it:

“Twin Suns hasn’t even started playing, and this man (the leader) is screaming at the audience as if we were unruly farm animals. That Sheffield idiot, eGdS, to call him something, is winning the title of the biggest idiot I’ve ever seen. Aggressive, a complete imbecile, forcing people to make noise (shouting ‘MAKE NOISE!’), getting closer, making MORE NOISE. Five seconds since they got on stage, no music, and this guy is already getting on my nerves. I think he’s pregnant with his own misery. He needs to boss and mistreat others. I don’t want to imagine what he’s like at home. On stage, he’s a damn fascist, and I’m sure he has a small penis.

There’s nothing worse than having a band leader who’s a terrible person, and the worst part is that their songs are decent, I’d even say good and catchy. I wonder if he’s already coked up at this point. Music isn’t everything. Being humble touches the hearts of others. Aggressiveness for a third (actually the fourth, but I didn’t see it) musical act that made me leave with a strong urge to pee (and scream in the bathroom due to his constant MAKE SOME NOISE shouts with a demon’s spirit. Rancid meat of a personality that needs softening. Not even velvet could make their show good. Passable songs with a good leader are a universe of pleasure compared to this hell of songs that keep improving themselves one after another. They are terribly good and rock, but with someone disrespectful and insulting who keeps getting more nervous and violent because we don’t meet his expectations (sir, I didn’t come here to shout at you, but to be amazed by your show). The audience, including me, didn’t shout or pander to him. All he does is keep barking ‘MAKE SOME NOISE’ like a cocaine-addicted dog. What a delight it must be to masturbate with someone else’s hand at the expense of so many uncomfortable souls watching.

Certainly, a bitter ending to a night that started off brilliantly, with the bands declining as the night went on in a venue with incredible sound and atmosphere.”