Snowman @ Capitol 26/07/08

Tue 29th Jul, 2008 in Gig Reviews

“We are Snowman, You are alone. Thankyou.”

There were tears before bedtime early on Sunday morning as the realisation hit; They are really going. Their official website has a blurb about Snowman; who they have been, on their way to where they are now, and it references Conrad to describe the band as – œbanished ex-pats huddling together on the edge of the colonial world, safe in each other’s company and hatching a desperate plan to get the fuck out of here.’ Desperate plan successful, Snowman are getting out. Indefinitely, their myspace says. You may find yourself wondering if it was something we did wrong… but rather, it was something they did right. Andy Citawarman (the Monkey Magic guy) has been promoted and transferred, and that’s enough for us. The rest of the crew will stay in London and presumably live a whole different flavour of inspiration to expand our minds with in their next album… for there will be a next album, that’s why they are all relocating together.

The tears would have begun earlier in the evening, except that the performances were so relentless and inspired that no one had time to think about the reason for the gig. The Silents played a loud and hard set, that drew a good few of the backline drinkers closer to the stage, and more than one was heard saying “Who is this? they’re awesome!” And so they were. Those who arrived in time to hear the last song were left regretting that last Belgian beer they’d had down the road.

In dire need of a dozen razors and a shopping spree, The Kill Devil Hills seemed out of place on the Capitol stage, with a fiddle, mandolin and a collection of acoustic guitars, some may have wondered at the choice of warm up act, but only until the set began, and the floor filled with dancers. Even the Death-disco knob factor couldn’t resist, except for that one girl who almost got punched out in the toilets because she kept asking, to no one in particular, in a dumb whiny voice, “Um, who’s this on now? and who’s after them? and, so then, is there anyone else playing?” Lucky for her, she flounced off before the Snowman fan at the mirror had a chance to kill her.

A drummer who can sing is always impressive, but the rich blues roar of Stephen Gibson made people search the stage for the new singer, and realising it was the drummer, they danced and cheered twice as hard. It began to look as though the audience wouldn’t have anything left in them for the headliners.

Snowman create music like the ocean. Beautiful and terrifying, they threaten to overwhelm you one minute and soothe your aching spirit the next. By turns peaceful and deafening, they are inexorably powerful, and many are compelled to immerse themselves despite the ocean’s indifference to their fragility. They do not dumb music down; if you don’t understand, it can’t be explained.

And so they arrived on stage with little fanfare and began to unleash the product of the last five or so years upon us. The most recent album is the culmination of their work so far, so it was fitting that it made up the final set-list, and while many were hoping to hear more older favourites, none could have been disappointed by the show. They were joined on stage by Nat Carson (Bank Holidays) Rachael Dease and Tara John (Schvendes) for a haunting rendition of The Blood of the Swan and Diokno Paslian (Kurbist Gong Band) on the gamelan for She is Turning Into You. They also made special mention, by name, to the man previously known as the Good Sound-Guy because wherever he is working the sound, it is always great. Hopefully, for the sake of live music in Perth, Snowman aren’t taking Ian Stewart with them to London.

At one point, Joe McKee decided he wanted everyone to have a turn on his guitar, so he jumped into the crowd, encouraged them all to sit down so he could see, and then gave them each a little bit of the music to keep. It was a magical moment to watch the crowd squat down in a huge circular ripple, wondering what was going to happen next. (All, that is, except for Mr DiBlasio- Ross’ dad- who will henceforth be known as the-guy-who-didn’t-sit-down, thanks to a boy whose hair he used to cut)

Under the influence of tribal drums and primal screams, the crowd shed inhibitions like right thongs at a festival, eyes never leaving the stage, for fear of missing something. The crowd howled along where they could keep up with the band, but mostly they stomped and jumped and waved arms and screamed from deeper inside themselves than they thought possible. Citawarman ended the encore face down on the stage, spent. If the new album picked at the edges of a scab, the live show tore it off, and pulled out the splinter that had been there festering for a lifetime.

See Antzpantz’ Gallery HERE