My Bloody Valentine, The Barrowlands, Glasgow

Photo: Michael Gallacher

At the top of the stairs on the way into the Barrowlands there is a man giving out earplugs. A My Bloody Valentine audience knows what it’s in for – last time the band played here in 2008 the volume of the head-melting half-hour finale ‘You Made Me Realise’ made people’s ears bleed.

A sceptic might wonder why people would subject themselves to this ordeal for entertainment. Kevin Shields knows a thing or two about putting his audience through such tribulations – a cruel taskmaster making us waiting over twenty years for the release of a new album.

His four-piece band produce a wall of immersive noise from the off, the melodies of opening tracks from ‘Loveless’ so far still intact. There are still moments of pure originality in this 1991 album, which remains as frustratingly enigmatic now as it ever was. Live, the lyrics are even harder to decipher than on record, this music demands a lot from the listener. Bilinda Butcher’s vocals seem wilfully obscured by the volume of the guitars, but this is MBV’s signature sound. Whether it’s a case of indulgence or genius My Bloody Valentine offer a truly cult experience: lights flash, a giant O pulsates, total submission to the noise is required.

Those familiar with rarer tracks like ‘Cigarette In Your Bed’, ‘Honey Power’ and Thorn are able to pick them out in the middle of the set. There is no chat (something which a couple of Glasgow hecklers have something to say about) but there are numerous breaks for Shields to change guitars.

This gig feels both oddly intimate and vastly impersonal at the same time. There are no room for feelings or perhaps emotional space is all that is being provided. There is a blank at the heart of this cocoon of noise waiting for the listener to climb into it. When a melody pokes through, you feel yourself drawn further in. It is futile to try to report on what is essentially an existential experience. You are required to let go and drift at the mercy of the music. The baggy shuffle of ‘Soon’ breaks the spell.

The climactic ‘Wonder 2’ sees drummer Colm Ó Cíosóig with a guitar in his hands as the band goes for sensory overload, a wind tunnel of noise. At the end Kevin Shields thanks the crowd and waves as he leaves the stage; it seems there is a human being in there after all.