Earth

I have to admit on hearing of the shocking news that Camden Market was on fire, and that the Hawley Arms had been gutted, my first thoughts weren't of where would the likes of Johnny and Amy now sup their ales, but hot damn, would the Earth and Sir Richard Bishop show be cancelled? Call me doomier than thou, but this weighed somewhat heavily on my mind.

So I was mightily relieved on hearing the news that said show was being shunted from Dingwalls, a few hundred yards down the pleasant boulevard that is Camden High St, to the spit and sawdust pit that is the Underworld. I'll come clean and say the Underworld isn't my favourite venue in London and that over the course of nearly 20 years I've seen some good shows there but nothing that could honestly be described as legendary. Frankly, for a short arse like me, it’s bloody hard to see what's happening on the low stage and whose stupid idea was it to put the stage behind some pillars anyway? But I digress: back to business and this double bill of ex-Sun City Girls guitarist Sir Richard Bishop and the Pacific North West’s finest purveyors of arid cinematic drone.

Earth’s presence alone more than made up for any misgivings about the venue. Frankly this line-up didn't mean one was going to be presented with much of a visual spectacle. My real concern was if the venue would stifle the broad expansive nature of Earth’s parched desert hum.

 

So, after a cold queue to get past The Underworld’s security team is enlivened by meeting the mighty Tim Harrington of Les Savy Fav (a gentleman!), we’re plunged deep into the pungent bowels of Camden’s legendary rock club. Sir Richard Bishop ambles on to an uncomfortably packed venue and blows minds with 30 minutes of what for all I know could be completely improvised guitar mangling. I'll hold my hands up and admit to knowing the guy’s name but up to this point had yet to hear him play. But this stuff is happening and very,_ very_ free! Bishop has a lightness of touch but still isn't afraid to attack his instrument, hammering away at some raga-ish motifs hypnotically as the sound teeters on the edge of feedback. But the Underworld is left enraptured by the Bishop’s open-tuned, free-form picking with some of the loudest cheers of the night coming after some beautifully constructed passages.

The Earth performing tonight consist of the four-piece that constructed 2008’s album of the year so far (round my house anyway), The Bees Made Honey in the Lions Skull (review). I’ve been looking forward to a full Earth set since catching the band’s enforced, frustratingly short performance at last December’s arse-quaking Sunn 0)))/Boris Altar extravaganza (review). Then we were teased with three new songs and an apologetic “catch ya later” from main man Dylan Carlson. Tonight Carlson pitches up stage right in front of an array of effects pedals and one worryingly large amp and proceeds to set the agenda for the evening with a wall of echo-sodden country strum. But tonight’s set is not about uncomfortable levels of decibels but a veritable trip through the wire of Earth’s current oeuvre.

The band is now tightly drilled, and tracks such as ‘Rise To Glory’ from the new album flow well. Steve Moore’s accompaniment on Fender Rhodes keyboard is particularly measured, never muddying the sound or competing with the guitar’s crawl. On one track bassist Don McGreevy’s deftly plucked, reverberating bass line builds and builds, until it climaxes in a low end rumble that completely fills the room and threatens to drown out the reverb-drenched twang of Carlson’s guitar. We’re suddenly and inadvertently dragged back 15-plus years to Earth’s monolithic drone origins.

Carlson is in charge, though. He prowls the right-hand side of the stage emitting some gloriously phased and shimmering sounds from his Telecaster. Each chord is carefully considered and precisely executed. There’s no excess fat. The trombone that has been perched next to Moore all set gets an airing towards the end of the set adding another bassy low-end timbre to the proceedings.

Earth snatch a deserved victory then. Not even a rain of biblical fire can hold them back.

Photographs: Sanna Charles