Rocker (feedbot)
Gold Member
A Highly Suspect show is very much a family affair. The crowd is scattered with balding dads taking their teenagers to their first rock show and, to their credit, it’s a good choice for a first experience. When they’re on form, Highly Suspect are a rock band who deserve the capitals in their title. However, this show is also a good opportunity to introduce newcomers to the risks of a live concert. You never quite know what you’re going to get, and that can include eight minute solos which devolve into whale noises, as we soon discover.
The sonic blast of a rocket landing fades as the stage lights rise like the sunrise. Johnny Stevens and his gang might be dressed like they’re in a hardcore or emo band, covered in black and skulls, but as they swing into ‘Mexico’, their sound becomes more LA rock. The guitar and bass groove like a highway without traffic, dipping in and out of the city smog, blown away by the blades of Stevens’ voice. The Meyers brothers on bass and drums throw silhouettes against smoke and light bulbs as the tough outlaw stomp of ‘Bloodfeather’ raises claps. Simultaneously more menacing and uplifting live, we drift through waves of grunge fuzz. We learn quickly that Stevens is in charge of guitar solos and he exercises that right frequently and wherever possible. The frontman raises both hands in middle finger salutes on the line “fuck the world,” and ends the song with a throttled rasping scream as the blood moon rises on the backdrop behind him.
“These are your brothers and sisters, your people in this building,” calls Stevens, raising a peace sign before a ghostly, pre-recorded choir rises up to signal the start of ‘Canals’. He also helpfully informs us that he’s not taking cocaine, only cough drops. Rich Meyer multitasks bass and vocals to help him out on ‘Lost’, his voice adding drops of mellow sweetness. We dance for ‘Lost’: not just bouncing or slamming, but full body air guitar and side stepping like we’re in a nightclub. At the back ramp, an old man in a plaid shirt folds his leather jacket to have a sit down and check the football scores while our dance moves reach disco throwback proportions. The spectral choir wails again before Highly Suspect get back to seventies-style driving guitar meltdowns that reach a burning, bursting crescendo before echoing harshly out.
Around forty five minutes into Highly Suspect’s set and our energy is still high; they never allow silence between songs, and we raise our phones in anticipation of whichever song the rolling waves of chords might lead to. This time, it’s ‘Seratonia’, and it emerges into a Pink Floyd-like smoothness which occasionally breaks into crashing guitar foam. The decision to make ‘Seratonia’ nearly fifteen minutes long, include an experimental solo, is a risky one, and some of us get lost along the way and head to the bar. At least four people sit, their heads slumped, potentially taking a nap, but most of us who find the whale song effects on each tone to be an intriguing part of a huge layered musical tapestry luxuriate in each silken thread of beautiful intention. The heavy pulsing of ‘Bath Salts’ drags us back to reality where Steven’s vocals stab and echo, breathing fire back into his guitar. They pump all their remaining strength back into ‘Lydia’, and it’s extra levels of harshness feel like a necessary reactivation for both sides of the stage.
Finishing with ‘Champagne At Our Funeral’ in a stripped down form feels satisfying and cyclical; they’ve placed the more personal songs at either end of the set with great effect. They walk offstage with no sign of an encore, or a goodnight. We start to put our coats on and cautiously head to the exit, unsure of what’s happening. Stevens vaults back onstage shouting, “does anyone know Cotton Eye Joe?” As we awkwardly re-shuffle into the venue, he pelts us with an angry, almost monologue version of ‘Look Alive Stay Alive’ while wearing a towel on his head. The track’s become exponentially amplified with super-underground basement energy. The frontman’s inner Beastie Boy comes out to see us off with ‘Pink Lullabye’, a full metal tribute to the less visible side of Highly Suspect. Still without a goodbye, the song finishes and the house lights turn off. Baffled by where we’ve ended up at the end of this show compared to where we started, we turn and go, hoping that we’re got it right this time.
Highly Suspect are definitely worth seeing live. Their high points place them in the top tier of live rock acts touring this year, but their low points make us wonder if they’ve seen better days since they were unafraid in their youth.
KATE ALLVEY
The sonic blast of a rocket landing fades as the stage lights rise like the sunrise. Johnny Stevens and his gang might be dressed like they’re in a hardcore or emo band, covered in black and skulls, but as they swing into ‘Mexico’, their sound becomes more LA rock. The guitar and bass groove like a highway without traffic, dipping in and out of the city smog, blown away by the blades of Stevens’ voice. The Meyers brothers on bass and drums throw silhouettes against smoke and light bulbs as the tough outlaw stomp of ‘Bloodfeather’ raises claps. Simultaneously more menacing and uplifting live, we drift through waves of grunge fuzz. We learn quickly that Stevens is in charge of guitar solos and he exercises that right frequently and wherever possible. The frontman raises both hands in middle finger salutes on the line “fuck the world,” and ends the song with a throttled rasping scream as the blood moon rises on the backdrop behind him.
“These are your brothers and sisters, your people in this building,” calls Stevens, raising a peace sign before a ghostly, pre-recorded choir rises up to signal the start of ‘Canals’. He also helpfully informs us that he’s not taking cocaine, only cough drops. Rich Meyer multitasks bass and vocals to help him out on ‘Lost’, his voice adding drops of mellow sweetness. We dance for ‘Lost’: not just bouncing or slamming, but full body air guitar and side stepping like we’re in a nightclub. At the back ramp, an old man in a plaid shirt folds his leather jacket to have a sit down and check the football scores while our dance moves reach disco throwback proportions. The spectral choir wails again before Highly Suspect get back to seventies-style driving guitar meltdowns that reach a burning, bursting crescendo before echoing harshly out.
Around forty five minutes into Highly Suspect’s set and our energy is still high; they never allow silence between songs, and we raise our phones in anticipation of whichever song the rolling waves of chords might lead to. This time, it’s ‘Seratonia’, and it emerges into a Pink Floyd-like smoothness which occasionally breaks into crashing guitar foam. The decision to make ‘Seratonia’ nearly fifteen minutes long, include an experimental solo, is a risky one, and some of us get lost along the way and head to the bar. At least four people sit, their heads slumped, potentially taking a nap, but most of us who find the whale song effects on each tone to be an intriguing part of a huge layered musical tapestry luxuriate in each silken thread of beautiful intention. The heavy pulsing of ‘Bath Salts’ drags us back to reality where Steven’s vocals stab and echo, breathing fire back into his guitar. They pump all their remaining strength back into ‘Lydia’, and it’s extra levels of harshness feel like a necessary reactivation for both sides of the stage.
Finishing with ‘Champagne At Our Funeral’ in a stripped down form feels satisfying and cyclical; they’ve placed the more personal songs at either end of the set with great effect. They walk offstage with no sign of an encore, or a goodnight. We start to put our coats on and cautiously head to the exit, unsure of what’s happening. Stevens vaults back onstage shouting, “does anyone know Cotton Eye Joe?” As we awkwardly re-shuffle into the venue, he pelts us with an angry, almost monologue version of ‘Look Alive Stay Alive’ while wearing a towel on his head. The track’s become exponentially amplified with super-underground basement energy. The frontman’s inner Beastie Boy comes out to see us off with ‘Pink Lullabye’, a full metal tribute to the less visible side of Highly Suspect. Still without a goodbye, the song finishes and the house lights turn off. Baffled by where we’ve ended up at the end of this show compared to where we started, we turn and go, hoping that we’re got it right this time.
Highly Suspect are definitely worth seeing live. Their high points place them in the top tier of live rock acts touring this year, but their low points make us wonder if they’ve seen better days since they were unafraid in their youth.
KATE ALLVEY