Yndi Halda

It tends to be the case that post-rock invites fairly generic, cliché-adorned reviews. I have therefore set myself a challenge: not to mention the words ‘soaring’, ‘epic’ or ‘Sigur Rós’ from now on. Wish me luck.

The venue is an intimate one in the heart of Tokyo's hipster, dress like Gwen Stefani and Marilyn Manson's lovechild Shibuya district. The crowd isn't a young one – 20- and 30-somethings abound. Three local support acts – Ovum, Euphoria and Experimentoj – comprise a lengthy build-up to Yndi Halda's headline slot. It's worth the wait.

An increasingly commercial music world means that it’s easy to forget what ‘real’ music (you know – intricate songwriting, sprawling tunes, passion 'n' stuff) sounds like, let alone how good it can be.

Listening to Yndi Halda on record is one thing (and with hindsight I am ashamed to say that, before tonight, I was close to dismissing Enjoy Eternal Bliss as background music), but seeing it performed in such intimate surrounds allows its intensity to be fully realised. This is music driven by emotion and spot-on songwriting brought to life through performance. The five of them together on such a small stage is intriguing; watching them perform quite something else. Throughout, they sway hypnotically and exchange wry grins and knowing looks of contentment. They are clearly enjoying every second and their synergy is tangible.

Now, let's be clear, I am certainly not one for public displays of man-emotion but when the mellower sections give way to the explosive combination of shimmering guitars, drums and that quite fantastic electric violin, it's difficult to describe how their music takes a hold of you. When they peak, Yndi Halda are nothing short of mesmerising.

Looking around, I'm not the only one. Some of the crowd are in what looks to be a trance, others fall victim to a tear or two and the rest simply gaze on in awe. It's been a long time since I've heard music this affecting. That's the beauty of the genre. Sprawling, lyric-less 15-minute tracks leave each listener to tailor their own interpretation of the music; to make up their own story. Somehow it fits each and every one, whether it's your saddest memory or your happiest.

The set closes and the band leaves the stage. An almost ten-minute-straight clapping frenzy ensues and no-one – no-one – amongst the audience moves. Lights come up and the venue sticks a CD on… still no-one moves. Finally, there is a signal to the sound desk and one more is permitted (bear in mind this is Japan and rules are rules – this simply doesn't happen). Yndi Halda return to the stage with a humbled "we don't usually do encores" and kick a further 15 minutes of emotional ass before raising instruments aloft and leaving utterly triumphant.

A previous DiS review of Yndi Halda suggested that they might one day be peerless. This is high praise indeed for a band off the back of a first release. However, the fact that tonight's show has – frankly – blown me away in all its soaring, epic, better-than-Sigur Rós (damn – nearly made it) magnificence means that I have to admit that the high praise is indeed justified. A ten-out-of-ten all the way were it not for what I thought was a slightly off-the-mark intro to an unnamed new track. Other than that, this was something very special indeed. Quite incredible.