Yo La Tengo @ City Varieties
By Hayley Avron
With dust sheets over unwanted amplifiers and drums, disguising the suggestion of a headline band, audible footsteps cut through the polite chatter and enter the attic, disturbing the motes in the air.
This is a first encounter of Juxtaposition and it's hard to imagine them in any other setting. These are fairy-tale songs in a world of dressing-up boxes and play-acting. Quiet-looking boys and two reticent girls arrive bashfully, aware that this time, play-time is being marked, as well. Chantal swings her dreadlocks like a nervous child in her first nativity. Will, on the other hand is the kid who's learnt his lines and knows his stuff. He's been waiting for this and he's gonna get himself noticed. If there is to be any criticism of their performance tonight, it's that Will and Chantal commandeer all of the attention, whilst the rest seem happy as bit-parts.
And maybe that's not even really a criticism.
Will's voice is strong; distinctive: the quintessential Englishman; reminiscent of something vague; someone older. You can hear the like of Echo and the Bunnymen dancing in the wings but their soundscapes are head-strong and individual (no small thanks to their Belgian collaborators). They move gently in and out of this unusual setting and they're going home with gold stars in their homework books.
Yo La Tengo, on the other hand, are the boisterous older siblings - evidently unprepared to let Juxtaposition steal the attention; unprepared to let us rest easy in our plush seats and antique surroundings. What starts off as a gentle lo-fi ramble through the rural landscape painted for them by Juxtaposition soon turns into a coruscating juggernaut ride over rough terrain. It's still lo-fi, though.
Guitars are hurled at amps in a bizarre stage-fight - stopped short before the aural assault becomes physical destruction. This is feedback as an art form and the violence becomes victorious during a drawn-out, escalating version of Sun Ra's 'Nuclear War' which does to the stomach what 'toofastoverthespeedbump' does to the stomach. It's not quite the comfort we'd gotten used to but it's welcome violence, nonetheless.
The attic has become a skylight, with Yo La Tengo's star-lit backdrop and it's time for bed as they walk offstage, clapping in time and singing 'goodbye' until the distance renders it a whisper. Okay, so there was a friendly, request-ridden encore, but that's the goodbye we'll remember.
