Altres / The Wildhouse

I’ve witnessed The Wildhouse more times than I care to recall. At times they’ve been stunning, at others less so, but, of late, this incarnation has simply been sublime.The current revival (I’m deliberately avoiding the word reformation as they’ve never really gone away, just mutated and changed while still somehow remaining The Wildhouse that audiences equally loved and hated) seems to have been gaining a slow but relentless momentum in recent times. Watching them a few years ago in the cramped, claustrophobic confines of the now long closed Beat Bar, it was hard to tell how much of the maelstrom was intentionally created by the band and how much was a result of the low roof, poor P.A. and dreadful acoustics but it was thrilling all the same. Then there was that legendary set last November, opening for De Rosa in this same venue, where a small but enthusiastic audience were blown away, not only by the sheer volume and howling, ringing feedback but by the dynamics and intricacies of sound and melody wrought out by three people using a basic set-up of two guitars, two drums and two voices.

There’s a bigger crowd tonight as Peter kicks the performance off. It’s initially quite low-key as he coaxes drones and feedback from his guitar and a box of tricks, then it becomes more textured and brutal. Paul joins in and slowly, out of the seeming chaos and randomness a song slowly starts to take shape. As Sheila joins in the sound, paradoxically, becomes more brutal and more beautiful, a real primal stew with elements of the Velvets, Mary Chain, Stooges, Loop and Sonic Youth (before they morphed into international jet setters post Daydream Nation). It’s rather splendid. In amongst the eardrum-splitting cacophony there are some sweet, sweet tunes fighting to get out. It’s a fine set, relentlessly loud, often chaotic, always breathtaking, with songs melting into one another culminating in Peter losing not one but three strings on his guitar before resorting to swinging it in an arc above his head, utilising it as a percussion instrument and generally raising an unholy racket. Meanwhile Sheila pounds out a merciless, primitive beat as Paul, hunched over the microphone, repeats a mantra-like line that initially was difficult to decipher until the words started to take shape over the elements. ‘The Lord is my shepherd’, he seems to be repeating over and over, almost to himself. It seems so perfect, so right in the context of what has gone before and I don’t know whether to laugh, clap or just sit in stunned silence with just the ringing in my ears for company. The Wildhouse may be vicious but they also know when to hit you with a flower. Definitely the best fun in town…

Altres have the unfortunate task of following this up. They are an entirely different kettle of fish with a sleek sound built from keyboards, samples, a drum machine and guitar. Initially their instrumentals are quite soothing, washing over me after the heaven and hell of The Wildhouse. At times they have a quite ambient feel, at other points though, they blend into a vaguely distracting background noise. When Altres work, they are perfectly engaging, even pleasurable, but at several points in the set they lack a cutting edge and merely become the aural equivalent of watching paint dry as opposed to The Wildhouse’s industrial strength paint stripping tones and textures.