(Me holding pushing my earplugs deeper into my ear canals during the 29-minute feedback bridge of “You Made Me Realise”)
I forgot to at least comment on how amazed I was to see My Bloody Valentine in Glasgow a bit over a month ago. I don’t like to talk about how I get bored at ‘new’ shows these days (unfortunately for my wallet, Radiohead last night), and I rarely seek them out. But I’ve seen a stupid number of reunion shows the past few years (Slint, Polvo, the original Dinosaur Jr., Sebadoh, Pixies, Mission of Burma, I’m sure there are others), which are good in themselves mostly for nostalgia’s sake (Sebadoh was much better than that even). But I typically feel one of two overarching feelings when in these audiences: old and pathetic, or old but revitalized with memories of when this stuff sounded fresh.
MBV was the closest show to making me actually feel younger, transposed to a different time. Maybe it was because the show was in a different country. Maybe it was the feel of 13 amps in my chest. Yes, the volume was intense, but sonically it’s just the perfect mix of melody, rock, and noise. My perfect little noisy place.
I have audio clips at home that I need to post. I was surprised all the amp-age didn’t completely overwhelm my little recorder.