I was sitting by the side of the bathtub, giving my kid a bath. My head was between my knees and I just decided I couldn’t live like this. I was out the door half a xanax and 10 minutes later, headed to Brooklyn. Yes, I told my wife I was going first.

Yesterday was a misery. Weeks, really. It feels like years since I’ve properly slept and maybe it has been. I don’t know. I’d had tickets for the third night of the four, last night, but I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get out the door. And I’d been wretched all day. Mad at myself for missing it, mad at the bullshit, all the last two years, this endless feeling of being right on the edge of something terrible. Fucking hell, at some point you have to live. Was I really going to let this go?

The Saint Vitus Bar has changed. There’s a door in now that bypasses the front barroom if you just want to go to the back, and a corresponding wall on the side of the back bar that I imagine makes it even more compressed between sets but maybe that’s just me protecting my terror at being out among humans. They’ve redone the bathrooms. There’s a wine store next door. Luxury apartment buildings are going up in this neighborhood by the dozen.

In the end, it was the last-chance factor that got me. Four shows. I didn’t need to see all of them. But one didn’t seem like too much to ask for. I’ve been inside for so long. I’ve been good. I got all my shots. I thought less of those who didn’t. Can’t I get a little something for all that comfortable moral superiority?

Remind me sometime and I’ll tell you (again) about the first time I almost saw YOB. Let me tell you from experience: almost seeing YOB is no way to go through life.

So here I am. At soundcheck. They’re playing “Adrift in the Ocean,” which they’ve done for the last three nights, and fair enough since Atma is being reissued. Got to talk to the band for a minute, and the Ecstatic Vision guys are kicking around somewhere. I don’t know when doors are and I don’t care. I made it. I’m doing this.

They follow “Adrift in the Ocean” with “Prepare the Ground.”

—

Next week, Ecstatic Vision will announce the name of their new album and the release date, as well as post the first single. They got to soundcheck after YOB. They even nailed that, but if there was any thought that their mojo might prove elusive for all their time away from a stage, it was dispelled almost immediately once their set started. Covered “TV Eye.” Place went off.

Do you understand? I mean, communal energy. Not just some throw-your-hands-in-the-air hackneyed shit, but the real deal; an honest to goodness vibe. Energy sent on an electric wave through the room, Ecstatic Vision pummeling asteroids careening through space like they’re totally out of control but playing off that tension and release the whole time. Magic. Or at very least, technology my brain will never be able to understand. They just finished. I feel alive.

I have a memory of seeing them in Jersey that feels recent despite being 10 lifetimes ago. They played with Brant Bjork that night. And no one was there. I tried to be kind about it at the time, but the truth is I was maybe one of 30 in the room. But tonight, this place. Shit. They killed then, don’t get me wrong. They were fucking awesome that night. Tonight there were witnesses. I was up front, didn’t move. Almost took a guitar string to the eye. Who cares? Element of danger was sick. Cables coming unplugged before the riff hits. My man swapping between sax and guitar and flute, pounding a Bud Light the whole time. Ecstatic Vision’s psychedelia is beautiful the way you think of lions chasing down and devouring zebras. I feel like I could nap for a week and I feel like I just woke up.

—

“Prepare the Ground.” Awaken. Awaken. I want to say all the weirdness went away immediately. Like it was pushed out of the room by the amps moving air. Even at its most ideal, life doesn’t work like that. But headbanging to YOB on a Wednesday night in Brooklyn is probably the closest I’m ever going to get.

It was beautiful. What a beautiful moment to exist.

Mike Scheidt, Aaron Rieseberg, Dave French, the latter new on drums. Last time I saw him was playing with Brothers of the Sonic Cloth at Roadburn. Or maybe something else. I don’t know. The room was full by the time they went on. It was easier for me to look forward at the stage than to look back at the humans assembled, so that’s what I did. I stayed up front for the duration. Where was I gonna go?

They played the chug ‘n’ lurcher from the last album, “The Screen.” And they played “The Lie That is Sin,” and “Upon the Sight of the Other Shore” and” Adrift in the Ocean” back to back. Broken string? Whatever. Next guitar. Fucking a. Roll on. And they finished with “Burning the Altar.” And that’s when everything was obliterated. You. Me. The whole place. The toxic air. The time. The shitty condos. Just gone.

What do you do with that? This was the last of four nights of YOB at Saint Vitus Bar. I’m so, so glad I saw it. Heard it. Felt it vibrating in my chest, the pain in my neck that I expect will only get worse tomorrow and the next day before it gets better. It doesn’t even matter. Just the sound. That rumble, that ring out. That scream. Fuck. If the altar didn’t burn from that, I don’t think it ever will. I gave Mike and Aaron hugs. I saw friends when it was done. Real friends. Real life. Amazing. Love.

—

Bought a shirt, said goodbye on the quick, mask on, and left. Nothing against anybody’s anything but it was time to go. Flat tire when I got back to the car a bit ago. Called AAA like you do. Box Street and McGuiness. They’re gonna film Blue Bloods there on Friday. Cops and such. Dude put the donut on. I got out in time for the headache to kick in. That’s where I’m at now. Home. Tired. After 1AM. I’ll be up around 7 if there’s mercy to be had. Maybe there is, maybe not. Can’t say I earned it.

I feel like I’ve been hibernating a piece of myself and it just got up and got a first drink of cold water. I don’t know what’s next. Neither do you. But holy shit I’m glad I was born so that I could live tonight.

Ecstatic Vision

YOB

Tags: Brooklyn, Ecstatic Vision Elusive Mojo, Elusive Mojo, Eugene, Heavy Psych Sounds, New York City, Oregon, Relapse Records, Saint Vitus Bar, Yob

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 24th, 2022 at 6:41 am and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.