My Bloody Valentine review: Shields and co bring the noise for brilliant gig in Dublin
My Bloody Valentine at 3Arena, Dublin. Picture: Isaac Watson
★★★★★
Let’s get the clichés out of the way on My Bloody Valentine’s gig in Dublin: a sonic cathedral of glorious dreamlike otherworldliness, ethereal white noise, heavenly-sounding walls of textured effects, epiphany-inducing distortion, discordant waves of guitars.
On Saturday night at 3Arena, Kevin Shields, Colm Ó Cíosóig, Belinda Butcher and Debbie Googe were welcomed like returning heroes: this was the Irish-English quartet’s first performance in seven years and their first Irish gig since 2013’s Electric Picnic appearance.
Thirty-four years ago this month, MBV released their second album Adverts in the music press for the landmark record declared: “They invented it. All you have to do is listen to it.”
In December 1991, and the music gatekeepers of the era, awarded Loveless No. 7 and No. 9 respectively in their 'Albums of the Year' round-ups. In the intervening years the album’s stature has grown year-on-year and it’s now rightly regarded as one of the greatest albums ever recorded.
We’ve still listening to it, and judging by the huge cohort of young people at last night’s 3Arena gig a sizeable portion of the band’s fanbase weren’t even born when the record was released. The streaming algorithms that push dream-pop playlists have sent millennials back to find the origin of the species. Amen.
Earplugs were distributed on entry and a punter in front of me kept checking a decibel-counter app. When MBV hit, they hit hard. At times it felt like a punch to the gut. Where is the joy in that? When the punch is layered in the most gorgeous textures the effect is truly mesmerising, almost trance-inducing.
There was a warm-up show last Wednesday in the National Stadium. Before 2,000 excited punters the band ran through their setlist, a public practice session. The stage crew ironed out production problems while technical issues with in-ear monitors caused a lot of stop-starts. the centrepiece of was attempted twice and abandoned. On Saturday, there were no such problems, Butcher’s breathy vocals wrapped around Shields’ swirling guitar lines. It was stunning.
A familiar looped drum pattern drops and the band launch into The song, the climax to a million indie discos in the 1990s, gets the biggest cheer of the night. The other deafening cheer happens when Shields dedicates the gig to Mani, the Stone Roses’ bass player who died last week. Shields and Mani played together for years in Primal Scream.
They finish with early singles and Punters gazed open-mouthed in shock at the latter’s 'holocaust' middle section. It was epic.
In the 37 years since MBV unleashed their Creation Records’ debut, various pretenders have been pulled along in the band’s slipstream. MBV return, plug in and in seconds blow everyone else away. The masters showed us how it’s done. MBV invented it, we listened in ecstatic awe.
The lights went up and the Stone Roses’s played over the PA, a beautiful tribute to Mani.
