My Bloody Valentine reviewed at Aviva Studios
Hearing protection is not obligatory at tonight’s My Bloody Valentine concert, but it is strongly encouraged. The path that winds to the entrance of Factory’s cavernous warehouse space, also known as Aviva Studios, is lined with stewards half-pleadingly offering out foam ear plugs; whilst the Irish icons haven’t played live in the UK since 2018, the assumption is that their approach to the decibel level is as uncompromising as ever.
The group’s connections to Manchester are varied and many, but the most obvious one to begin with is that when Creation Records signed Oasis in 1993, the label was still reeling from having been nearly bankrupted by the protracted sessions for My Bloody Valentine’s second album, Loveless.
The notorious perfectionism of the band’s creative leader, Kevin Shields, cost Creation millions, but the juice was worth the squeeze; the record is the masterpiece of the shoegaze movement, its influence incalculable, inspiring countless bands to reimagine what boundaries the electric guitar might have – if any.
They’ve only released one album since, 2013’s dense, dreamy m b v, and no explanation has been given for this sudden emergence from hiatus; no new material is aired tonight. You get the sense that in Shields’ ideal world, My Bloody Valentine would only ever perform live in rooms designed to his exact acoustic specifications, but instead, their enduring legacy, and legions of newly-won fans since they last played Manchester in 2013, means that they play huge rooms like this one, yawning voids that do not lend themselves readily to the kind of texture and nuance that is the band’s studio stock in trade.
The band put subtlety to one side(Image: Isaac Watson)
Accordingly, they put subtlety to one side. The band’s fearsome volume levels have long been the stuff of legend and from the opening seconds tonight, it’s clear that nothing’s changed; this is music you less hear than feel, with the percussion alone on the opening one-two of ‘I Only Said’ and ‘When You Sleep’ loud enough to rattle your internal organs.
If Spinal Tap’s amps went to eleven, My Bloody Valentine’s go to about 46. The effect of this is to sort of pummel you into submission, into the sort of blissed-out headspace where you can practically feel the waves of reverb that characterise he likes of ‘Only Shallow’ and ‘To Here Knows When’ washing over you. Bilinda Butcher is ostensibly the group’s lead singer.
Bilinda’s vocals are almost incidental, secondary to the seemingly infinite cascades of guitar – as are the visuals, the projected images of city skylines adding little to the conversation that the swell of the bass and the rush of the guitar aren’t already saying. It is not all plain sailing. Shields dedicates Loveless’ gorgeous, mercurial closer, ‘Soon’, to Mani; “he loved this one.”
My Bloody Valentine proved once again that they are ‘not for the faint of heart'(Image: Isaac Watson)
If The Stone Roses legend was watching on from above, he’ll have been especially pleased that technical difficulties forced them to play it twice, the PA cutting out and forcing a premature end both times. The band were beset by similar problems at their Dublin warmup show last Wednesday, and Shields apparently didn’t think to sharpen up his stage banter in case it happened again.
The fifteen-minute delay that follows is tough going. Shields is not taking requests, and is particularly curt in dismissing a call for his solo track ‘City Girl’, written for Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, although he does lend his backing to the chants for a free Palestine that break out, and teaches the audience a new word on the subject – “ponerology”.
By the time the band are finally up and running again, the crowd has noticeably thinned, the 11pm curfew imminent. Those who left early missed the band’s biggest party trick; an extended version of their 1987 single ‘You Made Me Realise’ that includes a full six minutes of squalling, single-note guitar feedback that
is overwhelmingly, exhilaratingly loud. It is a fitting way to close a set that was part sonic ecstasy, part experimental art piece, and part endurance test – as ever, My Bloody Valentine are not for the faint of heart.