Battle Acts
"These are the sounds schizophrenics hear..." The Mogwai comparison is obvious, but Meanwhile, Back In Communist Russia's sampled mission statement introduces a far more sophisticated system of contradictions than the quiet-loud dynamic. Dealing in dynamism and subtlety, physicality and perception, fundamental oppositions permeate the band; as vocalist Emily intones "I don't believe in violence", guitarist Mark Halloran attacks his instrument in an instinctive display of direct action. The poetry of empty days and wasted nights, Emily's monologues are rhythmically integrated into Orbital-style beats veiled by the Death In Vegas shroud; there's an organic evolution allowing MBICR to activate the moment rather than merely inhabit it, transcending documentation to become the vital threat their music acknowledges. Bypassing the dissipation of meaning risked in post-rock's extremes of repetition, MBICR riotously disperse as a single microphone, swinging metronomically under the flickering strobes, maintains their heartbeat. "Things worth risking for"? Like the oppressed political dream their moniker suggests, MBICR are worth dying for.
Continuing the post-rock theme, Autochtone's Daniel Gavin - a man who could work as Malcolm from Arab Strap's double, should such a thing ever be required - emerges brandishing a plastic trumpet. 'Cadet's' understated acoustic strum evokes Calexico, whilst 'I Never Even Noticed You Had Gone' ornaments The Cure with axe solos, guitars played with violin bows and glorious near-collapse, averted only by a unifying beat straight out of Eurovision. Gavin's drive, however, lends Autochtone a genuine gravitas. Such is his immersion in the resonant melodicism of 'The Lighthouse Keeper' that he remains oblivious to the drummer, mid-chorus, casually retuning his guitar; concluding 'The City', the definitive illustration of the eloquence in screaming, he hoists said guitar above his head and, in a single swift movement, smashes it to the floor. Demonstrating breathtaking contempt, it's a singularly powerful moment. Incredibly, this competition has provided Autochtone's first chance to play live. Their toy trumpets have yet to crumble the walls of Jericho, but Cowley has been warned.
It's Malkovich's will to thrill, however, which subverts pretensions to greatness. As guitarist Patrick Woodman directs his camera lens at the adoring throng, there's a natural ability to externalise their confrontational energy; whilst satisfying the basic rock requirement of physical catharsis, Malkovich effortlessly communicate an accessible acuity. 'Love Song' epitomises this dualism, addressing displacement with raging riffs and towering bass descending into the very bowels of the earth; 'Goodbye' juxtaposes deafening silence with monolithic noise, whilst System Of A Down's 'Sugar' features a lunatic explosion of tensile energy, sheer propulsive momentum lending the taunt "I've killed everyone" terrifying realism. Malkovich are playing for their very lives, and, as the perfect synchronicity of the onstage thrashing is mirrored by wildly enthusiastic members of both rival bands, the triumph of raw physicality is justified. This barrage of swiftly despatched nihilism sweeps past favourites MBICR to overall victory, a potentially huge local following and the irresistible vision of frontman Robert Maddison insolently gracing the cover of Kerrang. Enter the portal to Malkovich's world before it's too late.
1st Jun 2001