October 2009, Mohawk, Austin, Texas
For many years I wanted to go to Austin, even tried to make plans to go to SXSW before it became far too big for its own good, but never really had the chance. For anyone who loves music it’s a place you have to go and experience (like New York City or Seattle or Athens, I suppose) because it carries with it the weight of that sonic history (just ask Dave Grohl).
I was fortunate enough to be sent there a few years back for a convention, which took me to the city right around Halloween. Halloween is one of my favorite days, and in a town that caters to music can offer up great opportunities to see something unusual. In Athens, musicians of some renown create cover bands that spread across the city — it’s a wondrous thing.
The Black Angels are one of the many great bands from Austin, and as luck would have it, were set to play a show in town the time I was there. I’ve been a fan of the band since the start, its 2006 album Passover was on my regular rotation and I saw the band at the 40 Watt during that tour. In 2008 Directions to See a Ghost saw the band broaden to a larger sound, but with a continued power, where the sound is big and bold, moving through you in remarkable ways.
Boasting an outdoor stage, with places to see from above in two different spots, Mohawk was a gritty and fun bar with a great crowd and a festive atmosphere. Kurt Vile and the Violators opened for The Black Angels, setting a solid mood with the dirgey guitar rock.
The Black Angels came out to the home crowd fully in their element. Donning masks to celebrate Halloween eve, there was nothing flashy at the way the band went about its business, and there isn’t when a band’s main modus operendi is delivering a thumping, glorious noise.
It’s not my way to enthrall in psychedelic rock music, but there’s a weight to Black Angels that’s difficult to deny. Lead singer Alex Maas led the charge with his Jim Morrison-like delivery, while the great Stephanie Bailey proudly pounded the drums behind him in a stern and powerful way. It’s always a treat to see a band early in its career, because it will play songs you won’t hear live again if the band becomes more established. So while you will most always get the great “Black Grease,” “Young Men Dead” or “Haunting at 1300 McKinley,” hearing a song like “The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven” only happens during the early years. An only-in-Austin moment I was more than happy to be a part of.
The Black Angels are essential because it carries with it a music you don’t hear much anymore, mainly because few can do it well without it sounding dated or pedantic. It’s a genre they own alone, an unsettling loudness that shakes the trees.
