Psych-rock outfits Black Mountain and The Black Angels played at the Showbox Market Monday, forever proving that it’s okay to have two bands that share a word in their band name on the same bill. But seriously, while their names and throwback psych-rock stylings may be similar, their performances were decidedly not.
Vancouver, B.C.’s Black Mountain filled the opening slot, getting things started with their driving, chunky-riffed rock numbers. It didn’t take too long to notice that the show belonged to guitarist and vocalist Stephen McBean, who carried the performance with his combination of heavy riffs, tasty leads and some on-point solos. Songs that didn’t feature his guitar parts dragged along a little too lethargically, but McBean often swooped in to save the day by introducing a new melody or hook.
Lead vocalist Amber Webber was unfortunately emotionless for most of the performance, seeming almost uninterested at times. Despite standing at the front and center of the stage, she barely moved except to shake an occasional maraca or tambourine. McBean’s guitar wizardry and assistance on vocal duties helped to make up for her passive stage presence, but only so much. Still, their more righteous jams like “Stormy High” and “Don’t Run Our Hearts Around” did manage to sound awesome, with the latter of the two ending their set on a good note.
Austin, Texas’ Black Angels on the other hand turned in a dark, moody and nearly flawless headlining performance. The set began, characteristically, with the delay-drenched, droning guitar fade-in of “You On the Run,” the first track from 2008’s Directions to See a Ghost. The drums and bass dropped, lead vocalist Alex Maas let out one of his signature crazy demon shrieks, and they were off.
Despite the tour supporting their recently released Phosphene Dream LP, the setlist was made up of a nearly equal amount of songs from each of their three albums. And while the songs themselves were damn impressive – the slide-guitar paranoia of “Bloodhounds On My Trail,” the plodding, delay-drenched trip that is “Mission District,” the supremely filthy reverb of “Black Grease,” – their ability to convey and create a dark, moody, chemically-altered atmosphere was even more so.
It wasn’t just the layers of fog, colored lights, or vocalist Maas’ shadowy stage presence, short-brimmed hat pulled low to reveal his bearded countenance and little else.Guitarist Christian Bland utilizes a huge arsenal of vintage guitars and effects pedals, laying the delay on thick and warping tones even further with plenty of wah, yielding some seriously trippy results. Drummer Stephanie Bailey was something else entirely, her pale complexion, bleach-blonde hair and dark eye makeup giving her an almost ghostly appearance as she pounded out the pulsing, bass-heavy beats that anchored the band’s sound and damn near conjured up evil spirits.
The crowd loved every bit of it, the males zoning out with rhythmically bobbing heads, a number of females giving in to the music and dancing like they were possessed by the debble himself. A few of their songs sounded so similar (a common knock against this band) that they were hard to differentiate between, but with the quality of the performance it really didn’t matter.
From Maas’ opening scream to the crowd-pleasing encore closer “Young Men Dead,” The Black Angels played a tight and engaging set that is probably the closest thing to an acid trip in an underground Texas nightclub during the 1970’s many of the audience members will ever get to experience.
