June 2012, Georgia Theatre, Athens, Ga.
It was the night there was no need for an encore. There was no way to follow up on what Explosions projected into the sold-out crowd. It was the first time I’ve been to a show I loved where I didn’t want more — I’m not sure I could take any more.
Between bookended greetings and thank yous from guitarist Munaf Rayani was 90 minutes of sheer power dotted by moments of serenity only to become onslaughts of joy. When it was over I was high-fiving like a giddy teenager.
From the onset it was clear Explosions was playing for keeps, opening the night with “Memorial” from 2003’s The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place. The song is a slow burn, with Michael James adding subtle pings here and there while Rayani sets low on the stage waiting to emerge. Five minutes in bassist Mark Smith and drummer Chris Hrasky get more involved. And two minutes later ALL FUCKING HELL BREAKS LOSE. The sound that erupted off the stage sent me reeling, and all I could do was laugh as the four on stage punctuated each sound with wild jabs and reckless swaying.
My God.
“Yasmin The Light” was next, another older tune from 2001’s Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever, and helped settle the frenzy down, but not much. I was impressed how the band managed the crowd with the set, “Memorial” made me want to run through a wall, and “Yasmin” kept the adrenaline going, as did “Catastrophe And The Cure”. It wasn’t until song four that the band came to a selection from last year’s Take Care, Take Care, Take Care, the stellar “Postcard from 1952” that takes its time before paying off with one of the finest guitar arrangements I’ve heard in some time.
The thing about post-rock is that it’s easy for band members to lose track amidst the frantic build of eight to 10-minute songs. But what went on here was perfection in timing and display, as the tightness of the band was most impressive. When the band started in with “Your Hand In Mine,” I was beginning to start to move this show into my all-time top 10 — and I’ll add I’ve been going to shows steadily since 1982. When the band closed with “The Only Moment We Were Alone” — pounding out the song’s opening thuds with a sound that shook my beer bottle — it was in the top 10.
And when Explosions ended with the sonic barrage that defines the 10-minute masterpiece, a euphoria sped through me like a forest wild fire. There was nothing more to see, and everyone knew it.
