Live Review: Brant Bjork Trio & Earth Tongue at A38 Hajó in Budapest, Hungary, 2024.07.29
Once upon a Monday evening, and a boat, in Budapest.
The hajò in A38 Hajó translates to ‘ship’ in English, and indeed, it’s a big ol’ boat. Docked, so it’s not like we were listing one way or the other, though as Earth Tongue got started about 36 seconds after I walked in, I could swear I felt the floor move a bit.
The New Zealand duo have been in town — and by that I mean in Europe — for I don’t know how long already supporting their new album, Great Haunting, and the sun was still coming through the western side of the ship’s rooftop terrace as they played. Open walls, breeze, park across the street probably getting some wub of the pleasantly surprising tonal density on offer. To walk in a place you’ve never been and be rolled over by groove from Gussie Larkin’s guitar and Ezra Simons’ drums, the two sharing vocals throughout with a style that was punk and indie as much as stoner anything while also heavy as hell, a bit of playfully murderous Satanism to make it a good evil time, and almost folkish in some — just some — of the melodies coming through, but using the two-piece configuration not to highlight rawness, but versatility. It was quite a sight to see.
“Out of This Hell” was a highlight, with the wah doing some of the singing as well, and the stops and turns through cycles of riff underscored with, sparse in construction and arrangement but made full through
tone, giving up nothing of instrumental tightness for the dual vocals. Nuance waiting to be heard. They made the darkness in their sound a part of the fun, a smiling threat no less sincere. People cheered when they came back out to break down their gear, which to me spoke of their winning folks over, but maybe that’s not necessarily a surprise. They made it easy to get on board, and considering the likelihood of my seeing New Zealand anything, ever, in any context, the radness perhaps came with a bit of extra novelty.
I’ve been in Hungary for a couple weeks now, but am still very much a tourist, however confident my ‘köszönöm szépen’ at the grocery store has gotten. I last saw Brant Bjork, in this very configuration — with Mario Lalli on bass and Ryan Güt on drums, playing as Brant Bjork Trio — at Desertfest New York (review here) this past September, and while the band and I are from nowhere near the same place, biome, whatever, I still had a bit of home-comfort at the thought of watching them play. Their forthcoming album, Once Upon a Time in the Desert, is a to-form, to-a-high-standard groover, and while I suppose that’s gonna be true anytime you put Lalli and Bjork on a record together, well, it’s true this time too.
I moved up front while Lalli did the line check after meeting a few new friends from Buda and/or Pest and telling them about my adventure driving the little electric cart around Margít 
Island earlier in the day and getting ab recommendation to bit Wave Music to go record shopping. I had to move back up — not trying to be rude to anyone; just don’t want to miss my chance and I’m not good looking enough for people to make way when I say excuse me and try to get past — and I was glad I did because it filled in quickly. The sun wasn’t yet all the way down, but the lights were on and they were playing blues over the P.A., which felt right on. Bit of sway for the boat. I wished I had brought water, but I always do when I don’t, so I just drank that tension and let it be for a couple minutes. Dudes were gonna roll. The volume was gonna hit — it certainly had in Earth Tongue, even if it started with a bit of surprise at 19.30 on the dot more or less. An hour later, just an hour after I awkwarded my way through the door, there they were.
They played a goodly portion of the album — heads up on “Coming Down the Mountain, y’all — along with selections out of Bjork’s catalog from “Mary You’re Such a Lady” to “Too Many Chiefs,” which had dudes bouncing up front, and I gotta be honest with you, as much as I do the critic thing and try to take people’s work seriously because I believe it deserves serious consideration, I really just needed to let it go for a few fucking minutes. When they hit into “Sunshine,” I was perfectly happy to loosen the plugs in my ears and pull my head out of my own ass and relax. Yeah, it’s cool to go to a club show in a foreign city. It’s cool to be on a boat without any real plan for how I’m gonna get back to the apartment after. Hell, my niece is here for the week and she even came out for it. I can close my eyes and enjoy a thing for a few, right? Just a few? I’ll go back to writing on my phone like a dick when this song is over, I swear.
I saw this every time — every time — but I’ll say it again: Ryan Güt, man. Dude swings with the swing, and when he hits the snare on “Let the Truth Be Known,” he’s not trying to be mean about it, but he’s making a point, god damn it, and it’s a point worth making. The place had gotten what I’d consider packed out for a Monday night, and as I will, I hung in the back for a while and enjoyed the breathing space without giving up the volume of the jam being cast into the streetlit Magyarorszag night. Hétfőn. School night for me. Not even shitting you. 
Language lesson at 8AM tomorrow. Real life. “Bread for Butter.”
By the time they got to “UR Free,” they were long since rolling, and following it up with “Trip on the Wine” brought a bit of mellow after the tense verses of the newer song, a complement that worked better on stage than I’d have expected, and while “Trip” didn’t have the keys like on the album, that gave the guitar solo a little more emphasis in the easy-rolling nodder, building in volume and daring some nasty in the fuzz; the pot, stirred. They jammed on it — legit — and brought it down smooth, not that there was ever a doubt. “Somewhere Some Woman” followed, for another rad turn.
Live LP? Well, Lalli just put one out with The Rubber Snake Charmers, and Bjork and Güt have one coming from Stöner, but if they managed to capture this lineup at work, it’d be with the price of admission for their take on “Automatic Fantastic” alone. They ended the set proper with that — as one would — and came back out for the new single “Backin’ the Daze” as the first of a two-part encore,
following up with “Freaks of Nature” to finish the night. I bought my niece an Earth Tongue shirt and we split about a literal minute before it ended, which I’ll say I don’t regret because indeed it sounded fucking awesome echoing out into the night from the A38. Ditto the cheers after.
While I’d point out this Trio configuration as a standout in itself, you don’t need me to tell you to see Brant Bjork. He’s a captain of cool and the foremost ambassador of Californian desert rock, but I’ve done that shit before and if you didn’t get the message then, I doubt you’re (1:) still reading or (2:) inclined to now, so, fine. What I’ll say instead is that for me, this was a pretty special night, and when I think back on the four weeks I’ll have spent in Budapest this summer, I know damn well this is part of what I’ll remember most fondly. Also that I was able to catch the tram home without screwing it up. Not nothing considering a general weakness for navigation. Must’ve been a good one. Yeah, it was. I asked if I could do my morning lesson Wednesday instead. Fingers crossed.
More pics after the jump if you want to hit that up. Thanks for reading either way.
Earth Tongue
Brant Bjork Trio
