As I wrestle with a personal crisis about aging, I realised tonight that there’s one good thing about being old. It’s having been around when so many brilliant bands, scenes and sounds emerged.
The DFA1979 album ‘You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine’ was released in 2004. It was the era of top tier indie pop, with groups like The Killers, The Strokes and Bloc Party ruling over a kingdom of NME-endorsed acts that sprawled out into such made up scenes as ‘art rock’ and ‘nu wave. I spent my time at indie discos, dancing to The Walkmen’s ‘The Rat’, Hot Hot Heat, The Rapture…
I’m not even sure how or where I first heard ‘Black History Month’, but I remember the thrill. The Canadian duo probably didn’t really belong in the genre, but somehow there they were, taking some of the same influences but making it heavier, louder and cooler.
The whole of the debut DFA1979 record was just immaculate. They came, they dropped an album worthy of ‘classic’ status from its inception, then disappeared again. A meteor crashing into an already rich musical landscape and throwing it an ace of a curveball.
I can’t speak for the bands of the mid-noughties, but I’m pretty sure they became a cult favourite among musicians and helped push the next waves of indie, rock and punk in a heavier, more danceable direction. They could deliver that Chappel Roan line, “I’m your favourite artist’s favourite artist”, and it probably be true.
DFA1979 have now been reunited longer than their original run, and bestowed upon the world another three outrageously good albums.
Who knows where they would be if they hadn’t taken a five-year hiatus and a decade between albums one and two, but it feels like they should have been bigger. Like I should be grumbling in this review about the toilet facilities at Hampden and talking about some sort of ridiculous light show and how two men captivated a sold out stadium. Galvanizers isn’t exactly a matchbox, but the stage being set up in the yard for Friday’s Fatboy Slim gig would be nice, right?
Supporting tonight, Demob Happy warm up the crowd with a reliable and consistent set. Pulling together an agreeable selection of rock influences and ticking all the standard boxes, it’s a thoroughly satisfying performance, though it’s hard to pick out how they make their mark. The catchy chorus of ‘Less Is More’ feels a fitting mantra as they finish up short of their timeslot.
There’s 20 years of anticipation built up for this particular Death From Above 1979 set, where they’ll play their debut album in full. Galvanizers isn’t packed yet there is an energy that makes it feel ready to burst. (And actually, the disabled toilet already did.)
Singing drummer Sebastien Grainger is perched on a riser to make sure everyone gets a good view of his outrageous talent, powerful moustache and denim dungarees. Bassist Jesse Keeler has a different energy, rocking hard but drawing less attention, with a wide stance and hair falling over his face. It’s astonishing given how many musicians some artists pile on to their stage that just these two men can create such absolutely face-melting music, but here we are.
From front to back, ‘You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine’ is brilliant and it’s hard to find any fault this run through. Grainger’s simultaneous singing and drumming is so flawless it puts every other drummer or singer to shame, especially when a lot of the timing and dynamics need such precision and passion.
The word ‘banger’ to describe a tune feels made for this pair. Songs like ‘Blood On Our Hands’ and ‘Little Girl’ go especially hard, and during ‘Black History Month’ some sort of magic frequency is reached that dislodges a handful of confetti from another show from the rafters.
Following the full run-through of their 2004 album, we are gifted a small but mighty selection from the other records. Traversing between dancier tunes like their-top-on-Spotify ‘Freeze Me’ through the stomping rock of ‘Virgins’ and the indie-ish ‘White Is Red’, the group show their range – as does the audience as they dance, mosh and start a sizeable circle pit.
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When the crowd starts chanting “Here we f’ing go”, Grainger clarifies, “This is a local thing, isn’t it?” before asking… “Does it mean ‘get on with it’?!”
‘Trainwreck 1979’ starts with Grainger’s dramatic breathing intro, so as to make himself sound like a train… and it steam-powers into one of the duo’s biggest and most recognisable bops.
DFA1979 leave the crowd so thoroughly satiated that it seems the room is uncertain whether we could or will be gifted an encore.
Thankfully after an awkward rupture of too-well-lit applause, the pair return – ending with a crowd request for ‘Right On, Frankenstein!’ (the previous night of the tour got ‘Crystal Ball’ in this spot, and I’m not going to pretend I’m not sad we didn’t) and the boisterous pre-YAWIAM track ‘Dead Womb’.
An hour and a half of blistering brilliance done, the sweaty crowd disperses, tired but joyous.
Photos by Dale Harvey
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