Ghosting Season – The Lexington, London 21/06/2011

The words ‘electronica’, ‘live’ and ‘band’ are easy to jumble up and haphazardly throw together to try and pinpoint artists who just so happen to use some form of unknown, stand-alone mechanics live. Keeping the things seperate would be easier for those of us having to wield words instead of instruments. But it comes to pass that with artists like Ghosting Season, whose ‘Far End Of The Graveyard’ EP manages to somehow hide the essential instrumentation behind the synthetics brilliantly, there’s little space, or time, or breath for such argument in their new live environment.

As they appear bathed in an appropriately marine hue before being swept over by their own monochrome visuals, their set eases off with a slow burn – smacked, somehow inorganic wooden blocks and subtle kick drums serenade more than pulsate, easing the crowd into a false sense of security given the almighty wall of sound that is to come. It’s only once the ‘obsolete’ guitar is brought to the fore that the duo become a completely kinetic new beast – like the strings they mash are somehow bleeding more life out the of the computers being. Which, somehow, they do – they bring the machines to life. It’s a talent that, even in the space of such a short set, is impossible to ignore and manages to banish any thought of confusion.

Without that sordid heritage or even the slightest fleeting mention of how the two worlds of electronica and rock collide, the duo manage to prosper in what can, more often than not, become a quickly stale environment at such a time and such a place when done without a sense of such purpose. Bearing in mind the ‘gazyness of the crowd, to force even a morsel of movement out of them is to be applauded. Of course, we’re never given such an opportunity, and are instead left with a powerhouse Tom Ragsdale manically, hypnotically smashing at his equipment whilst Gavin Miller remains a somehow cool conductor of proceedings – they are a controlled storm that allows little room for mistake or pretense in both themselves and those standing near-aghast at the power of it all.

What makes tonight’s performance even more impressive is just how pretty much everything here is unheard – there’s a real sense that their best is yet to come and their sound, in truth, is actually not even close to their already lauded debut release. That’s an emphatic statement to make given their own past as worriedaboutsatan, but every ridiculously potent crescendo is a reminder of just how and why the step they have made from those beginnings is so vital to their new force. At parts, they sound as befitting of a stadium full of inebriated, gurning hedonists thrusting obnoxious rave claws into the air. At others, tender, introverted and romantic befitting of a seated, besotted audience. The duo have, at least in this short space of time, become unhindered by need for pigeonholing or name-tossing and will, in time, deserve a reputation beyond even the thought of all of it.

They’re not for everyone – despite their melodic presience, not all are going to be as moved by this sort of well thought out, moving soundscapes. Hell, it kind of gives it away even with a sentence like that. But, for those with the inclination and lack of pretense, you’d be hard pushed to find a more invigorating and thoughtful live performance as this.

Photos by Sebastien Dehesdin