This week we spoke to Axes to get a sense of whether they have half as much fun offstage as they appear to have on it. As it turns out, even for the happiest band in math, there can be such a thing as too much of an after-party. Meanwhile, And So I Watch You From Afar rue a false start (and sorry end) to a lengthy European road trip, and also make a cameo as Caspian recount some very unusual hard-drinking debauchery…
And So I Watch You From Afar are a tour de force. Few bands are able to put such intense feeling into such virtuoso performances. It’s what makes their live shows such events and inspires such a devoted fanbase.
Shortly before defying both power cuts and the elements in order to deliver one of the sets of the weekend at ArcTanGent, we caught up with Boston post-rock titans Caspian to talk about what fuels their fire musically. Initially apprehensive to put all six of their names to one album, we eventually found the common ground upon which House Caspian is built.
August marked the fourth year of ArcTanGent, a three day suite of instrumental rock, experimental rock, post rock and math rock. Needless to say, the annual mecca of niche rock was a success all round, boasting the most phenomenal lineup to date and the inevitable silent disco to follow.
ArcTanGent 2016 offered up one of the most bittersweet experiences, the joyous sight of the traditional Cleft and Chums ATG medley whilst knowing it would be for the very last time. Indeed, it was with huge sadness that we said goodbye to Messrs Beesley and Simm
Sure, we live in a drought-stricken plateau of heat and coexist with creatures that transform people into obituaries. But hey, at least Australia is actually the unspoken bread and butter of math and experimental music. Here the array of complex chord progressions, twisted song structures, quirky jazz and disjunctive noise runs deep...
he great challenge for any instrumental band is to communicate the themes of their work to listeners with a paucity of words, usually confined to song titles, album names, or intermittent vocals. When it comes to math rock, the clean toned and frenetically tapped guitar often reigns supreme in many fan circles. But it begs the question: what is the breadth of its musical language; how much can it really communicate before it alls sound the same? Math rock is predominantly a guitar-lead genre, but what will happen when the products of its tools become saturated and all too familiar?