No Age, Broadcast, Glasgow

Photo: Michael Gallacher
Although moved from the larger Stereo, this gig for LA two piece No Age sees them on friendly terms with the Glasgow audience. Having spent the previous evening at an impromptu Vaselines gig with their local hosts PAWS, singer/drummer Dean Spunt is full of enthusiasm about the city.

Seemingly minimal, their set up is misleading - drums are at the centre of the action, mic’d, distorted and rigged up to a device that looks like a spoon connected to an effects keyboard - the result is a fiercely layered and expansive sound with drums sitting on top of a wall of wailing guitar.

Newer songs retain an established slow/fast dynamic, fuzzy intros building into pounding rhythmic structures. The audience groove on the new stuff and mosh to the older songs.
“Wait until after for hugs, guys,”, guitarist Randy Randall asks a couple of over lubricated, over tactile chaps at the front. “For human contact, we’ll see you after the show.”

Once the risk of injury is bounced out, the front ranks join in a friendly, equal opportunities mosh. The smaller venue lends intimacy, Spunt addresses the throng as “my friends” and warms to the close proximity of the punters.

He picks up a bass for ‘I Won’t Be Your Generator’, which grinds with a energy which isn’t that of a rock show. Snatches of lyrics point to more depth but any nuance is lost, pop structure gone. An undercurrent of something powerful, punky and political is buried under the noise.

The elasticity of youth is nothing to be afraid of, this is just a roomful of people having a good time. It’s some achievement to keep up such bouncy action on the flagstone floor of Broadcast’s claustrophobia inducing basement. Even the unflappable Spunt is feeling the heat, and is thrown a towel (“Hey this smells fragrant, is that cologne?”) to mop up the sweat.

Urgency and dumb energy takes over. Their new LP ‘An Object’, might be a statement about records in an era where physical releases have become less important, but this gig is all about the experience of taking part in something that cannot be made tangible. No Age invite you to join in the thrash and thump, have a visceral experience which cannot be captured on your phone.

People bound back into the fray for several encores decided upon by the band without leaving the stage. Randall gets his hug and then they dive into another heavy rumbling number with scratchy, crashing drums. The inexhaustible pit risks colliding with the low ceiling and Spunt has to dismantle his drums to signal the end of the show.

Upstairs there is a high uptake on merchandise – dry T-shirts are now at a premium – perhaps some objects are still important.