I was beginning to fear that I'd be lulled to sleep listening to the PA ooze "Dream Baby Dream," (a Suicide's cover by Bruce Springsteen,) when Maserati abruptly cut the song short, playing loud and tight from the start. With masterful use of their delay pedals, Maserati goes non-stop like the pistons of a sports car, relentless, in perfect unison. Think of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" and the climactic intensity of "One of These Days" having a funky baby. It is dance music that nobody quite knows how to dance to, but a treat to watch live nonetheless.
At first I thought, "What kind of asshole band travels with a gong?" Mono! And they hit it only once! Although a better question might be: "Why the hell do they have a glockenspiel?" But the very best question I can ask is: "How do they preserve the beautiful melodies in their songs in a plethora of violent loudness?" Like buried treasure beneath the debris of noise, something innocent and honest was occurring. Mono plays with a passion that would almost seem melodramatic if it weren't for their sincerity. The drummer had a full-size bath towel to wipe the sweat from his face. The bassist stood as a centerpiece, wailing away on her instrument. The lead and rhythm guitarist played with strikingly similar movements, sitting down with their bodies swaying to the music and their hair fallen over their eyes. The only thing out of sync was the lead guitarist punching his guitar and falling to the floor without the company of his rhythmic counterpart. I wondered if they'd go deaf at the same time, too.
I remember a quote from Children of Men:
Julian Taylor: Y'know that ringing in your ears? That 'eeeeeeeeee'? That's the sound of the ear cells dying, like their swan song. Once it's gone you'll never hear that frequency again. Enjoy it while it lasts.
