The first time I listened to SubRosa's most recent album "More Constant than the Gods," it was a cool autumn day and I was driving up to my family's summer house in the Adirondacks of upstate New York. I remember the vibrant colors of the leaves, both beautiful and melancholy, a quiet symbol of dormancy, of the fragile nature of all things. When I arrived at the old lopsided house at the base of Eleventh mountain I remember telling my mother and father that I had just listened to the best album of the year. They responded with a lukewarm, semi-sarcastic, "Oh yeah?... that's nice."
It's crushing to me that I can't share this music with more people, but it's alright. I chose to love fringe culture. I chose to love the oddities of existence and the people who choose to rebel from the normal and in doing so I've doomed myself to walk alone.
Alone except for my loyal friend and roommate Matt who informed me a couple months ago that SubRosa would be playing with Neurosis at the Gothic Theater in Englewood. Needless to say this was a show I was looking forward to. Neurosis is after all the pioneer of Sludge, that bastard child of hardcore punk and doom. Think Black Flag with a heavy dose of Black Sabbath and you're most of the way there.
To mentally prepare for the evening we decided to hit up a brewpub, Brews on Broadway, about a block down the street from the venue. There we lounged at a table sipping English style ales, eating pizza, and watching a toddler run laps around the dining area looking for any attention she could get while her parents were enjoying a moment of peace.
After a few beers it was time to walk down to the Gothic, tickets in our hands, excitement in our hearts. Upon entering the opening band, In the Company of Serpents, had just finished their set. Although I would've liked to get a taste of them, I was there for the headliners. In no time SubRosa was on stage tuning up, pleading with the man at the soundboard with the universal gesture of LOUDER, an extended index finger pointed to the ceiling.
Then the lights went down and a blue glow emerged from behind the band as they unleashed a sound I won't soon forget. Thundering guitar but with the accompaniment of dual electric violins played through vintage Sunn guitar amps. I knew violin was responsible for most of the lead melody of this particular band, but seeing it in person was surreal. I think it was the way these two women played them. They waled on them while headbanging violently, a description that sounds clumsy and masculine, but in reality they did so with a grace I wasn't prepared for.
They chose only a few tracks from their most recent album to share with us, but since this is sludge, each track was a 10 minute epic of emotional turbulence. Each led by the charismatic frontwoman, Rebecca Vernon, a slight redhead with eyes of fire and a chanting voice both comforting and frightening. It was as if she were gently showing us the darkness in existence, guiding us through it with a softly glowing torch. It was over all too soon, but they're exit left the stage ready for the legendary Neurosis.
Neurosis set up in much the same way. Louder, louder until they looked vaguely content then the lights went low and with a flash a storm of noise descended on the cramped venue. Their tone was bigger, fuller, more organic, a sign that they've been around a little longer, have made a life out of shaping frequencies into crashing waves. The sound seeped into me, passed through me. I felt like if at any time I rebelled I might drown in it, helplessly flailing in an ocean current. Neurosis is known for being heavy and they didn't disappoint choosing their most explosive tracks, some starting quietly but discordantly, bating us into the eventual explosion of fury.
The two guitarists/vocalists in the band, Steve Von Till and Scott Kelly, were unwavering in their delivery. Together they had such an iconic stage presence, Von Till the eccentric with a gravelly hypnotic voice, Kelly a beast with a roar that made the microphone in front of him largely inconsequential. The percussion seemed to be the backbone showcasing tribal beats that kept each song lumbering forward unstoppable. I understand now why they were so influential and also why to this day they remain largely in the shadows. The shear force of Neurosis is overwhelming to the point of being awe-inspiring.
This was a special show, a show I wish I could've shared with more people, a show that expressed very clearly that there are some people who aren't afraid of the darkness, who aren't afraid of anything, and there are people who don't listen to sludge.
