Akron/Family

Before Akron/Family take to the stage I ask Nima from Hush The Many what to expect, having never seen the New Yorkers before. He tells me that they exemplify the difference between English and American bands; when pushed to elaborate he explains, “they’re nutters” – a succinct and ultimately prophetic comment.

The Windmill seems like an odd setting for the ‘Young Gods’ four, but what it lacks in the urban rusticity the group seem to ooze, or the cool charm of The Spitz (where they play the following night) is made up in spades by its homeliness, an atmosphere created in part by the size of the venue. At one point the band complain about only being able to see the first three rows of fans and, by the sound of it, this goes both ways, only those at the very front being able to make out anything on stage.

Nevertheless, this cosiness works fine for Hush The Many, their delicate orchestral folk finding its place comfortably under the low ceiling and painted wooden walls. If the Akron/Family are nutjob warriors from folk’s not-to-distant future, then Hush The Many are their down-to-earth sidekick. Maybe I’m intimating an ‘Alfred and Batman’ relationship that doesn’t exist here (Hush The Many certainly couldn’t be labelled with caution) but there’s a bookishness and humility about them that does seem very English. Their set blooms with beautifully lulled melodies and slightly-sour themes, tracks like ‘Paper Doll’ suiting the setting and the band’s decision to play without a drummer.

So next, enter the headliners: dancing to the pop being played over the PA, two of them strip to the wait and adorn the stage with bird toys and wooden charms. In a more cynical mood, I’d probably slyly whisper to my friend “pretentious beardies”, but then tonight I’m feeling generous; besides, the band exude such warmth and humour that it’s hard not to forgive them their excesses. Said excesses really could be boiled down to just one: noise. Lots and lots of noise. I suspect many came tonight expecting the other-worldly folk of the group’s debut, or the heart-warming riffs-and-chants of their recent split album with Michael Gira. Both are on display, but in mutant form, each song acting as a gateway into something infinitely more intense and tribal: 'Future Myth' becomes a 20 minute space-epic; drone, folk and pure, primal noise colliding in a sonic assault of war-like proportions. Yet, hard as it is to begrudge the band their excesses, I can’t help but feel that it drags just a little too much, that the group may be too wrapped up in their own dizzying alter-universe to show much consideration for their audience’s patience (let alone our ears).

When it clicks, though, it clicks perfectly: I don’t know if any lyric could touch me as much as that from ‘Afford’; or if any more joyous song than ‘Raising The Sparks’ has been written in the last year (ok, maybe ‘The Purple Bottle’. Or ‘The Predatory Wasp of The Palisades…’. Oh just shut up). Admittedly a huge slice of the pleasure of this gig is the sheer mind-blowing intensity of standing at the front-line of such a godly racket; and the joy of seeing four guys, heads bowed, screaming, two playing drums simultaneously on the same kit, absorbed in a desert-like trance, is one sadly lost on those out of eye-shot. However that shouldn’t detract from the fact that Akron/Family seem to be in the midst of finding a sound, the kind of which doesn’t merely move mountains but destroys and then rebuilds them, purely through its own force of collective will. Either way, my ears are still ringing.