Legend says that if The Mars Volta comes to town to perform, not going to the show means that a little bit of your soul dies. Having generated a reputation as one of the must see live bands, the legend is probably not far from the truth.
Melbournites gathered at The Forum for an intimate night with the eight-piece extravaganza, anticipation heightened by the fact that there would be no supporting act beforehand. Walking into the theatre, punters were greeted by a massive backdrop, featuring a single eyeball in the centre. The atmosphere was tense, almost as if they could bear to wait no longer, which was evident in the applause and cheering that followed the end of each DJ track preceding the entrance.
The lights dimmed. Fistful of Dollars began to play, but still no sign of the band. The cheering from the sold out crowd near drowned out the now trademark entrance track for the band, who calmly walked on stage and positioned themselves, and without further ado, opened the gateway to another dimension – The Mars Volta mothership.
Abducting the souls and consciousness of the audience with the pure intensity of the psychedelic riffs, the tautness of the performers and the near blinding visual spectacle, The Mars Volta proceeded to unleash wave after wave of attacks on the senses, leaving the crowd fixated and enchanted.
There is so much going on stage at once, that it seemed futile to take it all in at once, as each performer on stage captures your attention in their own way. Undoubtedly, the microphone antics and unbridled enthusiasm of vocalist/poet Cedric Bixler-Zavala, who almost seemed to be the outlet of physical expression for the entire outfit, his body fluid in synchronism with the seamless blend of sounds permeating our consciousness.
Thomas Pridgen, the band’s uber-amazing-drummer-maestro-show-stealer was definitely one of the highlights in an evening of nigh perfection. Shirt off, dreadlocks flying askew, Pridgen’s precision with the drums was such, the sticks began to blur as Pridgen followed the direction of the other maestro in the band, guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez.
Omar’s demeanour is a direct contrast to that of Cedric’s exuberant, liquid dance. Every inch of movement appears calculated, controlled and restrained; yet watching the sheer mastery of his fingers drives home the fact that one is in fact witnessing one of the greatest guitarists of our time.
Two and a half hours later, The Mars Volta brought the audience back to Earth, after one last mind-searing jam that practically blew the roof off the Forum and left to deafening cheers and pleas for an encore, waving and thanking the audience.
The Mars Volta definitely proved themselves worthy of the title as one of the greatest collective of performers of this generation, but tonight has added to the legend. Not seeing The Mars Volta causes a little part of your soul to die. Seeing the Mars Volta causes a little part of your soul to abandon you and join the Legion…. which is not a bad thing at all.
adam12
said ages ago