Playing to three-quarters of an eventually packed house, King Woman’s ambient and hypnotically intense set more than adequately warmed up an engaged crowd. Captivating vocalist Kristina Esfandiari, complimented her reverb-drenched, ethereal whiskey and cigarettes vocals with a dynamic assortment of shrieks, screams and howls, which effectively compensated for her limited melodic range. From the whispered passages at the beginning of set opener “Shame,” to the measured melodicism of “Hierophant,” to the unhinged dirge-like ferocity of “Deny,” King Woman delivered a no nonsense set of noisy, shoe-gaze doom devoid of any kind of onstage banter or audience acknowledgement. By the time the last gasps of feedback were wrung from the Orange amps on set closer “Manna” and Esfandiari had picked herself off the floor where she had been writhing for a large part of the track’s run length, the crowd was suitably primed for Russian Circles.
The short intermission between King Woman and Russian Circles found the venue filling to capacity with a wide variety of folks, certainly not the standard metal show constituency. Come to think of it, this might have been one of the most hygienic and best smelling crowds I’ve encountered in recent history. As the two millennial’s behind me discussed their bids for all-time best science fiction movie (they mostly agreed on 2001: A Space Odyssey), the lights went down and Russian Circles took the stage. “Station,” from 2008’s record of the same name, with its extensive build-up suitably kicked off the evening. As the palm muted intro segued into the main riff and the lights went bright, a visibly and vocally enthusiastic audience expressed their approval.
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The beautiful post-rock of “Afrika” provided an early highlight of the set. Powerhouse drummer Dave Turncrantz pounded away behind the kit, all flailing arms and hair, as the band delivered a transcendental experience for a crowd whose reactions ranged from smiles and head-banging to tears. Later in the set, “Ethel,” from 2013’s excellent ‘Memorial,’ followed suit and provided another emotional and ethereal break from the band’s more metallic moments.
Crowd favorite “Harper Lewis” found Russian Circles engaged in some knotty prog, thick with palm-muted arpeggios, tapping and breakdowns. Lanky, long haired, mustachioed guitarist Mike Sullivan, who showed off his love of experimental music via a Goat t-shirt, stood almost motionless stage right confidently and studiously manipulating his guitar and frequently looping riffs in order to play counterpoint.
“Deficit” provided one of the darkest and heaviest moments of the night, as amply bearded, suspender clad bass player Brian Cook led the band through a funereal series of cinematic themes before building into an intense 16th note triplet driven gallop. “Vorel” and “309” mined similar territory, and saw the band doubling down on their ability to slither through a wide array of emotion inducing motifs and textures.
Russian Circles’ career spanning live show at The Sinclair in Cambridge, Massachusetts turned up the intensity and the amps to great effect, revealing a raw edge that did nothing to discredit their reputation as a technically gifted and experimental band with a real focus on efficiency, flow and song craft. Eschewing unnecessary progressive noodling, and with nary a microphone in sight, the band impressively wove together a dynamic pattern of soundscapes that left the satisfied crowd “speechless.”