My Bloody Valentine live!

My Bloody Valentine
Aragon, Chicago
Saturday, September 27, 2008

From a trio of stewards hocking free earplugs for fans filing in the Aragon to a set-closing, 20-minute cannonade of noise that kicked everyone out, there was no mistaking the intent behind My Bloody Valentine’s return. Frontman Kevin Shields, crippled by 17 years of artistic paralysis, now deals solely in volume.

Prior to its 1992 hiatus, MBV was known for shaping its decibel onslaught into strikingly melodic forms — so effectively that it could sell out a cavern the Aragon’s size without much publicity or mainstream cachet. The band (and a Macintosh laptop) occasionally conquered the venue’s notoriously muddy acoustics through sheer force, communicating slight instrumental nuances though completely blurring Bilinda Butcher’s already-inarticulate cooing.

No new material infiltrated the setlist, which was split relatively evenly between the band’s only standard releases, Isn’t Anything and Loveless. Boasting the stage presences of sedated DJs, Shields and Butcher were never more than six feet from their microphone stands and were content to let an epileptic light show supply the visual excitement. On and on the shoegaze staples marched (“I Only Said,” “When You Sleep,” “Come In Alone”), Shields doing minimal conducting or tinkering, save “Only Shallow,” which violently brandished a knife, slashing Bates-style through the old arrangement. The lackadaisical presentation did little to justify the reunion; Shields’ reluctance to engage the audience seemed to set the music on a loop as it tunneled deeper and deeper into the Aragon’s sonic void.

Drummer Colm Ó Síosóig was the only revelation, throwing elbows as his bandmates slouched through “Soon” and the chaotic “Feed Me With Your Kiss,” the latter of which had more in common with Mudhoney than Slowdive. He couldn’t, however, do much with the haplessly stale Madchester beat of “I Only Said,” or provide any incentive to endure the strapped-to-the-tarmac, white-noise jizzbomb finale.

And so came to pass the latest alt-rock reunion — like catching a syndicated comedy for the first time with the volume knob broken off. Perhaps in the last gesture, Shields was symbolically nuking the past to clear land for MBV Mark II. Or he truly has nothing left to offer.

— Steve Forstneger

Category: Live Reviews, Weekly