Live Review: HØSTSABBAT 2022 Night One in Oslo, Norway, 10.07.22
Posted in Features, Reviews on October 8th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Before, during Kanaan soundcheck
Almost three years to the day since I was last in Norway for Høstsabbat. Some things are different, some are not. I slept almost the entire flight. Blessed by Apollo (or whoever) with an empty seat next to me in a two-person row, I was able to lie down if not stretch out, and that second airline pillow is key.
I remembered to go to the right at Oslo airport to get to the trains even before I saw the sign not quite screaming in my face to do so, and got into town with enough time to crash for another hour before showering and trying to make myself look human enough to be in public for a while. One does one’s best, anyhow. We must acknowledge some causes long since lost. I’ve always thought of myself as more bridge than cave troll, but even that’s perhaps more romantic than “doughy suburban dad.”
In any case, people are busily busying themselves with busy-looking stuff. Laptops are out. I got told to remove my ass from the balcony a brief moment after taking a picture of the church itself — the venue, Kulturkirken Jacob, is an old church repurposed as an arts/performance space, which is about the best fate one could ever hope for concerning a religious institution — so came downstairs to write, get more coffee and see who’s where. I have a press pass, so I think I can wander a bit. With an hour and a half till showtime, I should probably do that.
My expectations are high here based on prior experience with Høstsabbat, but more than anything I am humbled to be here at all among these incredible people and the likewise incredible event they’re about to make happen. One hopes to stay out of the way, will likely fail. Fair enough.
Kanaan just started playing full volume. Only for a minute, but it was a welcome reminder: Everything’s going to be okay once the music starts. One more coffee before then, maybe.
HØSTSABBAT 2022 NIGHT ONE
Kanaan
Says something that even as Oslo’s own Kanaan celebrate their 2021 Earthbound (review here) LP by performing it in full, they’ve got two newer works out there as well in the 27-minute piece “Beyond” included on a four-way split through Worst Bassist Records and the forthcoming album, Diversions Vol. I: Softly Through Sunshine on Jansen. They are ascendant as well as prolific, each outing offering something new or at least a broadened take on what came before. I feel like I have a better understanding having seen them live, even if a full-album set isn’t the most representative of their work on the whole, their range was by no means absent from that material, however terrestrial it may be on relative terms. Drums, guitar/bass/synth, and guitar all in a line near the front of the stage, Kanaan pulled a packed house early crowd and the audience clearly were not showing up by happenstance. All hall the next generation. Capital-‘h’ Heavy needs this turnover to happen desperately in the next few years, and if Kanaan are among the vanguard for it, so much the better for the intricacy of what they play and the obvious heart with which they play it. They killed and sound like they’re only getting better. Now I get to say both I’ve seen them and that I ‘prefer the live version’ of Earthbound. Ultimate snobbery.
Kosmik Boogie Tribe
My camera fell out of my bag before their set. Full height, cosmic backpack betrayal. Imagine seeing the nicest thing you own bounce off a cement floor. I said a very loud, very much in English “fuck!” but it turned out okay. Might be time for a new camera bag, but will be extra careful in the meantime. Fortunately Kosmik Boogie Tribe were a salve for such concerns, blowing the dust off soul and floor alike with their classic, somehow punk-ish heavy rock and roll. This was riffs, beer, maybe the odd bit of what they call ‘flower’ now that it’s legal where I live. Good vibes, high energy, and no screwing around despite all the screwing around. Aside from my relief and not, you know, needing a new camera, I was pulled in by Kosmik Boogie Tribe’s infectious energy and shut-up-and-go, 1-2-3-4-play verve. Rock and roll can be an outright blast when you do it right. I was only passingly familiar before, so relished the chance to see them open in the crypt, which was immediately full. I hate to think of Høstsabbat outgrowing that space — they say to show up early, and I did — but they had a line of people waiting to get into the space in front of the not-quite-a-stage, and reasonably so. It was packed in there. Better show up early next time too. Kosmik Boogie Tribe had a couple live LPs for sale, and seemed well on board for sonic shenanigans, leaving me with the best kind of homework to do later on.
Needlepoint
I suppose it would be too unsuitable to their ultra-mellow, vibe-minded style to say Needlepoint made waves with 2021’s Walking Up That Valley (review here). Gentle waves, then, to coincide with the melodies with which they and you while listening seem to be taking a casual pleasant stroll that then turns into the kind of conversation about life that changes the way you think, ever so slightly, but more than you realize. I would be willing to bet actual kroner that every single guy in this band was at some point the best player in another band. They’re technical enough to be a showcase, but that melody highlights an utter disinterest in that particular kind of indulgence. Instead, Needlepoint, who are from here, focus on the organic, a kind of particularly Scandinavian folk moving in along with the jazzy drums, smooth, smooth, smooth basslines and interweaving progressions of keys/organ and finger-plucked guitar, Bjørn Klakegg’s likewise soft vocal delivery reinforcing the intent without over-selling it or coming across as hackneyed. I went upstairs to the balcony to watch the full set and they were done before I even knew it was time. Bonus kudos, as the dudes from Kanaan were down the front the whole set. One can only imagine the drummer-chat that will ensue likely a respectable amount of time after Needlepoint’s gear is off stage. These guys are classy, no need to bother immediately.
U-FOES
I must’ve listened to U-FOES before but could not tell you when. In any case, their noise, sludge-more-in-tone-than-mindset take on hardcore-bred riffing was a hilarious enough contrast to Needlepoint immediately prior that it felt like everyone was in on the gag, which is how it should be if you’re going to do that kind of thing. I didn’t stay long, wanted to grab more coffee, check in at home, etc., but I could hear them through the floor up in the chapel a few minutes later and they sounded duly caustic. Hey, I’m from the Northeastern corridor of the United States, ergo, it’s not my first time hearing hardcore and metal and sludge get slammed together for the sake of aural and artistic release, and while they weren’t really my thing, rest assured that’s on me, not them. Dressed all in white with strobe a-plenty for lighting, they balanced a raw sound of guitar, drums, vocals against a markedly severe atmosphere and hit into some hard grooves along the way.
The Moth Gatherer
Stockholm’s The Moth Gatherer had me by the time they were halfway into “The Drone Kingdom” from 2019’s Esoteric Oppression, and that opened the set. Best bit of post-metal I’ve seen on this stage since Amenra, and I remembered seeing The Moth Gatherer here in 2018 (review here), the difference between that set and this one is this time they were upstairs and absolutely owned the room. Barking vocals, undulating nod, atmospheric sludge-style riffing, lurch, immersion, the whole nine. Some clean vocals changed things up fluidly, but the lesson learned is that clearly I should go back an album or two and give them another shot. Not too many surprises — and to be fair, they’re not really playing to a style that offers them once you know what you’re looking for, but their stage presence was unquestionable and they found a place between the destructive and restorative that made them hypnotic to watch even before the video projections or strobe effects were factored in. Høstsabbat has expanded enough that it’s impossible to see all of it — that’s freeing, in a way, since one feels less obliged to do so — but I felt no doubt in watching The Moth Gatherer that I was at the right place at the right time.
Orkan
Jetlag and boogie do not historically mix, but Orkan are infectious just the same. With the Swedish five-piece taking the floor in the Crypt, Høstsabbat enters the sax-inclusive portion of the evening, and Orkan put theirs to good use, incorporating the brass as part of their classic-heavy-derived sound while leaving room for the dual guitars and the harmony-prone, just-about-everybody-sings-at-one-point-or-another vocal arrangements. Zero complaints whatsoever, except perhaps the lack of room with the crowd press behind me to give their songs the softshoe they deserved. Also I did something to my knee, because I am old. The point is that Orkan, who were had all the ’70s in their sound you could possibly ask for without actually being 70 years old, were a band I’d probably just about never get to see, and that’s worth cherishing, softshoe or no. I scuttled off to the side of the room and sat for a few, just kind of taking in that vibe, and as with everything else I saw at Høstsabbat night one, they were united to the rest of the lineup by a broadly-defined sense of what makes music heavy. In this case, it was their ability to make their sound move, and to make it fun. They seemed pretty serious about what they were doing, but loosened up as they went on, and sure enough, it was a party.
REZN
I’ve written a fair amount about Chicago’s REZN, and as soon as I hammer out the liner notes for their upcoming PostWax collaboration with Vinnum Sabbathi from Mexico I’ll have written more, but I don’t think I ever really got it until seeing them play. They hit the Chapel stage with little to no ceremony and set about unfolding a droney, psychedelic reach that felt like it was going for miles — kilometers, if you’d rather. Peppered with sac and synth, further distinguished by soft-delivered soulful vocals that brought an entirely serene spirit to even the heaviest moments, they were powerful in the sense of making air move from and around amps, but there’s just so much to hear in their sound. Sometimes it’s Dead Meadow offset by Chicagoan post-metallic crunch, and sometimes it’s the bounce and melodymaking of Mars Red Sky with synth filling out what might otherwise be empty spaces in the sound, but any angle you want to take, their set was gorgeous and I feel like I better appreciate what they do having witnessed it in person; a clarification of who they are on record and a singular impression on the day. I went up and watched from the balcony and as they mood-drenched the whole church. Preach, dudes. They just announced a new record, too. I won’t say I wasn’t looking forward to it before, but only more so now.
MoE
They were awesome. Signed to the fest-associated Vinter Records label — see also Norna tomorrow — MoE, just to be clear, have nothing to do with the US jam band of the same name. They’re homegrown Norwegian, and with killer art-rock-via-Melvins-crunch, they were indeed a wondrous abomination to behold. The room was packed well in advance of their start. Between the push — all these humans — and the fact that if I hung out there much longer I was going to topple over the stage monitor, which would help nothing, I backed out quick and with not much mercy or apology. I guess you get to a certain point in the evening and there you go. I sort of hobbled to the back and stayed there for a while, the dual-vocal all-onslaught lumbering like a reminder that, yes, Indian were soon enough to go on upstairs. Another stark shift in style to suit the theme of the day of Høstsabbat gleefully refusing to only be one thing. MoE actually made the point pretty well, since they too were unhindered by whatever self-imposed rules might’ve otherwise held them back. Oh, and also? They were fucking loud. Don’t mistake me — everyone’s been loud. Needlepoint were loud. This was another kind of loud though. Your-earplugs-mean-nothing loud. Brutal without the death. Today was Bandcamp Friday. Next one I know where to put some money.
Indian
There are very few bands who are able to sound so specifically violent. Never mind the fact that they seem not so much to play their songs as to punch them, the scathing guitar noise, visceral screams and each and every crash-and-kick-drum combo hit all feel more like punishment than just about anyone else I can think of in any genre. They’re an emdgame for this thing that they do. There could not be anyone more extreme without it losing something from one side or another. Playing under plain white light that they demanded be brighter before starting, the Chicago four-piece set immediately about physically punishing the crowd and themselves alike with their music, an act of apparently empty catharsis otherwise surely they would’ve stopped by now. They are a tonal force, but it’s not even that, or the feedback, or the screaming or the floor took echoing through the church hall like it’s beating out a march to slaughter, it’s the way in which all of it bus so overwhelming as to trigger this fight or flight panic, like you either need to protect yourself from it or get the fuck out. I’ve seen a lot of bands. A stupid number; I couldn’t even guess. But Indian are their own nightmare. There’s blood and sharp things and I think someone’s crying somewhere? You’ll remember it when you wake up. An infliction of a band and more. Fuck it. None nastier.
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More pics after the jump.
