Savages relish in extreme emotions. Love, regret and sex – these are lyrical themes that Savages loom over on their incendiary sophomore record, “Adore Life”; sometimes within the same song. The quartet’s greatest asset has always been their ability to capture emotional turmoil. Singer Jehnny Beth moulds personal anguish into gut-wrenching lyrics; pair that with cavernous guitar and incessant bass, and you’ll get nothing short of a cathartic experience. Translate that live, however, and “wow” might cross your lips.
With this in mind, Savages’ recent Montreal performance was sure to constitute something larger-than-life, something that inspires awe. Those lucky enough to witness such an affair last Saturday at the Corona were treated to just that.
Savages don’t address love tropes in a conventional way; they cut through the BS. Each track was a vindictive onslaught towards an anonymous “you.” – “If you don’t love me, don’t love anybody,” declared Beth on “The Answer.” Whether Beth’s narrative is a factual account, spectators were invited to reflect on similar experiences. Beth reminded the crowd of the pain that accompanies a breakup, which cued them to vent their feelings away. Attempting to manifest such pain is a common musical cliché, but Savages transcended its limitations.
That dynamism injected their set with a push-pull element: Beth’s agility on stage allured the audience closer and closer. Other times, Beth encapsulated an air of detachment; sauntering on stage as the audience demanded her attention. That dichotomy engaged the audience. Beth ceased the crowd into silence on a few occasions; taking the opportunity to deliver some impassioned monologues as the band accelerated in tempo.
The show’s setlist featured an idiosyncratic edge that kept things familiar, yet fresh. Savages’ sonic palette consists of thick, catchy-as-hell bass riffs and screeching guitar chords. All of these elements were held in tandem by Beth’s relentlessly evocative voice, which took two main forms: her usual snarl and feverish yelps so high-pitched that her vocal chords no doubt suffered the next day.
The full spectrum of Savages’ appeal lies in their instantly gratifying hooks and strong anthemic sensibility. Once the more obligatory favorites were played, the band transitioned seamlessly into sultry slow jams. No surprises there, considering how volatile and adaptable of a front woman Beth is. Throughout the show, Savages’ clear intent was to create constant movement. Beth’s stage diving and athletic bursts of energy validated this strongly. Shame that “punk” now connotes a dead style, because Savages have the attitude and the musical finesse to pump new life into the genre.
Continuing down a seemingly endless spiral of distortion, these post-punk darlings churned anthem after anthem; rallying moments of communal moshing and singing. While Beth’s dominant stage presence proved to be a focal point, she managed to not overshadow the raw talent of her band mates. The driving punch of Ayse Hassan’s meaty bass hooks shook eyeballs in sockets, while Gemma Thompson’s razor sharp guitar noodling had the impact of a sledgehammer. The few audience members who weren’t indulging in the mosh pit were left to gaze from a distance, mouths agape.
Ironically, silence was used as an intensifier. On “Adore”, Beth sung a poignant declaration about enjoying life’s simple pleasures: “I may die, maybe tomorrow.” At the song’s mid-point, Beth effectively showcased the band’s instrumental dexterity and sense of tension. “Say it!”, shouted an impatient audience member. A grin crossed Beth’s face. “I adore life,” concluded Beth with firm confidence. That knack for grandeur is where Savages’ safest musical avenues lie. Judging form the monochrome aesthetics of the band, such intense musical conviction seemed fitting.
There was a moment that cemented Savages’ draw: During the tail end of the set, Thompson’s distortion pedals began malfunctioning. Hassan kept trudging along with Fay Milton’s retrained drum beat. Beth continued to thrust violently around the stage. Once the problem was sorted out, the band continued to shred. In the end, the tenuous casualty hardly registered. This moment accentuated their slow dirge of an encore track “Adore” – life is a gradation of unpredictable occurrences, but in the end, it’s hard not to Adore it.
Savages’ current tour run is the band’s most realized and merciless – and their best stint in Montreal, thus far.
Review – Calvin Cashen
Photos – Kieron Yates
