Scenestar

ARTICLE BY MYCHELLE PETERSON

SEPT. 27 | CHICAGO—Seeing My Bloody Valentine live, for some, is an event 15-plus years in the making. This is a band, after all, whose 1991 album Loveless has inspired countless copycats, tribute bands and a frenzied level of cult-like worship. For years, MBV has topped the Coachella "wishlist," and while it didn’t happen this year, something possibly better did. Kevin Shields acknowledged coming out of retirement and announced a world tour that has sold out in virtually every city it visits.

But the problem is the build up. Fifteen years is a long time to wait to see a band live, and even for a newer fan, you are still aware of the history and the hype. The crowd at the sold-out Aragon Ballroom was tense with anticipation tonight, even when standing in line outside. High school kids, old gray-haired audiophiles, the Goth contingency—everyone was here, and no one knew what to expect. Shields often said back in the day that the goal of My Bloody Valentine’s music was to achieve a feeling of alienation, a very Brechtian sentiment. Well, no doubt, Brecht would be a proud witness were he in this crowd during the performance.

After a brief set from New York’s Hopewell, the audience crammed closer into Aragon’s main floor full of anxiety and excitement. When the lights went down, the sound came up. In case you haven’t heard, My Bloody Valentine might possibly be the loudest live band on the planet. So loud, in fact, that the venue staff gave out earplugs and warned people even before stepping foot in the venue. "It’s gonna be really, really loud," I heard a security guard say, remarking to myself that he actually had no idea what he was about to hear.

So what did it sound like? It was assaulting, annihilating, arresting even. And yet, it was also amazing. With high-tech earplugs firmly in place, I probably missed some of the noise. But what I lacked aurally, I felt in my chest. And my sinuses. And my lips. Every single part of my body vibrated during opening track "I Only Said" from Loveless as well as during every song to follow in the hour and 20 minute set. Around me, I saw goofy grins plastered on a sea of faces. As the set went on, people just stood blissful in the noise, occasionally able to make out a melody layered under the distortion.

One thing MBV achieved with ease was creating that alienation effect. Even if you were into every single song and really got into the sound, you still were blinded visually by lights, which were the equivalent of guitars shredding your ears. Not quite sure what I was seeing in front of me, I wondered if this was the infamous "white light" you see before you die, or if it was the nasty white light of a torturous interrogation room.

Having read a bit about earlier shows, I knew what was coming with the set closer, "You Made Me Realise," which started off innocently enough. But a few minutes in, the lights pretty much went down and close to 20 minutes later, came back up after the audience stood dumbfounded. What other band would and could get away with pummeling an audience into a 20 minute wall of feedback and fuzz? And what other band’s fans would stand there and gladly take it? It was like being in the engine of a jet during a fierce and fiery crash—at times I was sure I felt the heat and heard flames engulfing the ballroom around me.

Intense is the best word to describe the whole experience. Neither claiming victory nor disappointment, it was simply intense. I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to see them live, and it is a night I will surely never forget. But I’m not sure I’d do it again any time soon—sometimes experiences this intense must be carefully calibrated and adequate time must pass before you are prepared for another one of this magnitude.

My Bloody Valentine invades Santa Monica this week for two nights at the Civic Auditorium, October 1 and 2. Be sure to check back later this week to see The Scenestar’s photo coverage of those shows!