Having missed Lydia Lunch's most recent London show with Retrovirus a couple of weeks ago I was very glad to get to see Big Sexy Noise again. This time they were back at the Lexington: a venue that almost seems like a second home for them these days.
But first we had to make it through NOUGHT who are a 4-piece who played instrumental Prog-rock odysseys! Yes, you read that right. Prog-rock all the way, they opened with what sounded like something off of a Matching Mole record before it launched into some sort of prog funk work out.
But damn, these guys can play and are they precise. The drummer seems to think he is in some sort of Michael Shrieve tribute act and the guitarist does some seriously odd runs and twists on his axe.
They seemed to get all Fripped out with the Can of Neu blues. Again it was dizzying hearing how many notes they squeezed into a piece and how overly intricate everything was, but also at the same time it was deathly dull so that the sort of Piano etude interlude was a brief respite before the madness returned and they tried to be like a Frippy ELP before getting mashed on Mushrooms and spending what seemed like a weekend trying to recreate Tradgard Algarnas' Departed and failing miserably.
It then shifted into some sort of Topographic nonsense where you'd need a few Kayak albums to navigate. Try as I might, this left me leaning against a wall with boredom. They then announced it was time for one more piece and promised it would be a shorter one, you know under an hour. God, they dragged on and this last piece had so many false endings. Each one filled me with hope they would be done before they went on with more of this musical madness before finally (hallelujah) they actually were done.
They got decent applause mainly for their virtuosity as musicians but not for the material, oh man, I hope I never see them again.
After the break we had Nought washed right out of our ears by Big Sexy Noise who take an opposite approach and are reductive and all the more compelling for it. They opened with MahaKali Calling where James Johnston's guitar filled the room with more warmth and emotion in the first 30 seconds than I'd heard in all of Nought's. Lydia Lunch's vocals came in and AS she shouted the lyrics at us, the packed room seemed to come to life.
Not sure what the second song was, but it pummelled our brains. I think It might have been Not Your Fault, but either way the sound James was getting from his guitar through a Marshall stack as well as a bass amp was incredible, as was the powerful simplicity of Ian White's drumming.
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Balling The Jack was played up to by Lydia as she stalked the stage and left us in no doubt what the song was about. Your Love Don't Pay The Rent was the centre-piece of the set and each breakdown after a chorus had an ever more twisted rap thrown into it to know what a useless piece of crap the bloke she's singing about was. It was of course brilliant.
Might As Well Explode (or whatever the song about the desperation of the suicide bomber is called) just blew through the place as Lydia fanned herself against the heat and distorted madness James was summoning from his guitar. Trust The Witch saw Lydia rubbing a fan or two's hair like it was some ancient ritual to help recharge her powers to bewitch us all.
Collision Course seemed to ramp up the intensity of James' guitar playing and Ian's drumming somewhat with one false ending and loads of distorted rage from the guitars and Lydia too.
This being Palm Sunday we had to spend some time with the Gospel Singer, the old Harry Crews classic that blew through the Lexington like it was on a mission from God herself.
The Baby Faced Killer then came to strike fear into our hearts, just as he's meant to. Lydia then announced the next song as being a new one. It could be called There's Something Witchy In The Air, but either way it sounds just like you'd want it too. It goaded James into rolling around on the floor as his guitar just splintered notes all over us.
Lydia then announced that was the end of the set but as she was too lazy to walk off they'd play the encore now and they launched into a down and dirty version of Lou Reed's Kill Your Sons, only Big Sexy Noise really bring the paranoia and the dirt to the song.
They closed with the super sleazy Big Willie White that as normal was dedicated to Big Willie, aka Ian White on the drums and he tried not to look too embarrassed. Whatever, it was a perfect close to a devastatingly great set that proved conclusively that less is more and as ever if you get the chance go and see Big Sexy Noise play live, make sure you take it. They really are an incredible live act.
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