It’s fitting testament to the resurgence of Edinburgh’s live music scene that, on a drab and blustery Sunday evening, the cavernous grandeur of the Picture House is packed to capacity to see a post-rock outfit playing grandly over-extended guitar-based instrumental music who aren’t Mogwai.
I must have missed the moment in which Explosions In The Sky became so popular with Scottish audiences but, make no mistake, this is a crowd made up of serious devotees to the Texan four-piece. The queue to the bar is endless, the atmosphere stiflingly hot and sticky, and the throng of predominately, but not exclusively, young indie hipsters are showing no signs of Sunday night weariness or nonchalance.
I unfortunately arrive just as support act Lichens are finishing. Just two shapeless forms onstage lit only by a faint luminous glow, they emit a piercing alien drone which slices through the near darkness. For the brief few minutes I see them, Lichens come across as some form of otherworldly manifestation and I wish I’d caught more of them.
Explosions In The Sky offer even less in the way of stage presence, though possibly less deliberately. They wander on, four blokes in t-shirts and jeans, looking for all the world like perennial fourth on the bill middlers who have somehow found themselves headlining the big gig. Even the lighting remains resolutely low key, as if to emphasise that it’s all about the music, man. They take up their allotted instruments and give a graceful spoken introduction blessed by impeccable Texan courtesy and manners. About how marvellous it is to be back in Edinburgh after five years, it’s a beautiful city and big thanks to us all for coming out tonight.
They then manage to spend the following seventy-five minutes boring me into senseless submission.
The term “Post-Rock” was originally coined in the mid-nineties by overzealous music journalists, ever keen to announce the birth of a genre. It was used to describe the twilit rumblings of bands such as Slint, Labradford and Bark: Psychosis. These groups used the standard rock line-up of guitars, bass and drums to produce ethereal, emotionally charged music which didn’t even remotely rock out.
Post-rock reached its critical peak about ten years ago with the explosively stellar work of the afore-mentioned Mogwai and Canada’s Godspeed You: Black Emperor. Both these groups, still going strong, produce music at epic proportions and manage to create maelstroms of social, political and personal tumult out of sheer visceral intensity. Explosions In The Sky clearly want to be in that league, but there is something seriously lacking in their performance.
It feels so programmed, structured, as though following the basic template read in an old dog-eared instruction manual. The achingly extended intro based around a shimmering ascending chord sequence which slowly builds through cascading blasts and flurries before finally exploding into a coruscating tsunami of noise, followed by a gradual ebb and flow into distant space and dying whale song. It’s great the first time, but repeated (non)variations on this theme of solemn grandeur become increasingly wearying.
Ultimately, Explosions In The Sky mean well. Their new album is called “Take Care, Take Care, Take Care”, emphasising the emotional preciousness of existence which seemingly forms a dominant part of any musical ethos. I spot the odd moist eye in the rapt Edinburgh audience clearly adoring them. They have pristine sound at maximum volume, crystal-clear bass frequencies which cause the Picture House to almost audibly ripple.
But I find it difficult to love them, or to hate them, or indeed to form any kind of solid opinion. The devastating roar that emanates from the stage pours over me, relentless, uncaring and impervious at my attempts to find any interest or meaning it. Maybe that’s the point and Explosions In The Sky are producing a true sound of nature.