Dead Meadow: de-dumbing done and re-rocking

Lost in music that places no limitations to its vocabulary, a realisation dawns that although our language and heritage are being enriched daily we tend to dim it down, in particular as far as the mass culture is concerned. In a sound byte - the lingo we speak no-more. The level of ignorance prevents bridging the gap to one’s influences to be dragged into a new mindset, supported by today’s emotions and feelings that reflect the contemporary decay and pop music’s failing to be anything more than mechanoids dressed and ‘programmed’ to resemble ‘wannabes’.

At least, tonight Matthew, the flow is reversed and there is an attempt to reach into the past and re-adventure it, explore deeper into the realm of dreams, nightmares and altern-world. Dead Meadow is a Washington DC trio (a quartet onstage) who make music that expends horizons of self-discovery and clearing up internal issues. With a backpack of tunes to paint the town Joseph’s multicolours.

And, it often is like a spinning wheel - the longer you watch it turning the more mesmerised you get and it looks like it is going higher and higher - until you are left hovering in suspended air. Volume is used generously - “Loudest band on Earth” calling it may be a bit far fetched [once you’ve experienced Motorhead’s ear-bleed] - but within the powerful sounds are hidden treasures such as uplifting melodies, distant vocals and a subtle beat to shake your favourite part to.

Inspired by bands such as Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, they incorporate elements that are punky, rocky, psyche, prog, stoner… There is a tonal universe under the microscope here and they truly travel the sonic mystique. At times recalling King Crimson at their most avant-rocking with the spellbinding of Can and the trippy-vistas of The Doors. Song titles - ‘Beyond The Fields We Know’, ‘At The Edge of The World’, ‘The White Worm’ - point the way to autonomy.

The band likes to tag its sonic extravaganza an ‘organic heavy music’ and it certainly takes different timings: the final song lasts half-an-hour via deployment of an entire musical arsenal to journey the history - from The Beach Boys to Nirvana - through the doors of perception… Its destination is the outer rings of celestial awe during which we may have discovered a new planet to be named Obsessa.

While elsewhere in town Limpen Bizkit are flogging their insta-retro to enthralled tweenagers and Travis/Keane and Snow Patrol peddle their soft-rubbish, Dead Meadow are on the frequency of an enchanted soundscape.

75 minutes of blissful blow-out. No nihilist should have it any other way.