A Place To Bury Strangers rose to prominence in the early aughts off the strength of being dubbed the loudest band in New York. Donning messy hair and a My Bloody Valentine level of pedal boards, the band unleashed unbridled bursts of static-infused feeling that made their live shows infamous. Following in the exalted tradition of New York City no wave, A Place To Bury Strangers honors the confrontational experimentation of seminal artists like Sonic Youth and Lydia Lunch with a unique take on noise-rock that pushes the psychedelic and mind-expanding boundaries of the genre. With their most recent release Synthesizer, which they showcased at Empty Bottle, the band once again embrace analog technology to make something uniquely modern, with some of their catchiest hooks ever in tow.
APTBS frontman and guitarist Oliver Ackerman took the stage with a demeanor that was charmingly opposite that of his music. Long, greasy hair falling over his face as he hunched over the microphone and quietly and respectfully beckoned the crowd to applaud for the two openers, The Serfs and Astrobrite. Ackerman appeared to be careful, subdued, and almost shy. All of that changed immediately as he slung his guitar strap over his shoulder. As the amps were turned on, the sound of pure, piercing electricity submerged the room, and Ackerman became instantaneously unhinged, as he began to manipulate the wall of sound through violent strumming.
Careening back and forth across the stage, Ackerman became a man possessed, simply a vessel for the sound bleeding out of the amplifier which he seemed only partially in control of. Or rather, which seemed partially in control of him. Early in the set his guitar strap became intermittently unhooked, and he held his guitar up by the neck with one hand while he roughly strummed with the other, as if the strap fastening the guitar to his body was just in the way anyway. Bassist John Fedowitz gave rhythm and direction to the distortion with his catchy and focused basslines, like a pounding heartbeat leading one through a panic attack.
After the driving Synthesizer cut “Bad Idea,” which occurred roughly 20 minutes into the set, I lost track of the setlist. Not because the remainder of the set was same-y or incomprehensible, but because I chose to. I realized that treating this show review like any other would be entirely missing the point. Separating myself from the experience to track the setlist and take meticulous notes on my phone would actually be a disservice to the band and the inimitable live music environment they were creating. The textured and undulating wall of sound deserved my undivided attention, not my explicitly critical lens. Besides, the sheer sonic magnitude of APTBS live is so overwhelming that much of the traditional musicality gets lost in the haze. The actual notes and chords being played on the guitar appear in the distance rather than the foreground, like bright shooting stars decorating the overcast sky of noise. While this may sound unappealing to some, APTBS is not a band you see to critique traditional musicality, they are a band you see to find spirituality in static.
Past simply being oppressively and bombastically loud, APTBS’ live shows are known for being overwhelming all-encompassing sensory experiences. Thick fog enveloped the crowd and the multiple strobe lights and disco balls lived up to the photosensitivity warnings posted along the Empty Bottle’s hallowed walls. The view of the stage was like the music, obstructed and blurred by layers of shimmer and distortion. The performance even became tactile due to proximity, as the band left the stage roughly 40 minutes into the set to play an extended and partially improvised sequence of freaked-out, surprisingly danceable harsh noise in the crowd. Ackerman threw his guitar haphazardly on the stage and brought a small cart with various chords and hardware connected to a microphone onto the floor, a flashing multicolored light at the base of the cart signaling where in the crowd he was. Fedowitz, bass still attached, and a single floor tom for the drummer follow Ackerman to the middle of the crowd, right in front of me. And there I stood, shoulder to sweaty shoulder with John Fedowitz, mere inches away from Ackerman piloting his majestically gaudy traveling noise contraption.
I was as physically close to the music as an audience member could ever possibly be, and could feel the reverberation of the bass strings and the rhythmic impacts of the floor tom traveling through my skeletal system. Ackerman screamed into the mic, distorting and delaying his own wails with musical machinery that was too dimly lit to make out. He pushed and jerked this cart around the close circle of people surrounding them of which I was on the front-lines, making just enough contact with us to physically connect but not hurt anyone (or get sued).
The band then made their way back to the stage to close out what had become a 90+ minute mammoth of a set. Their penchant for antagonistic stage warfare was fully realized, as the thrashing of the band members reached fever pitch and the stage equipment became the enemy. Ackerman haphazardly swung a strobe light over his head, encasing the Empty Bottle in a velodrome of blurred vision. He then used that same strobe light as a makeshift guitar slide, scraping against his guitar strings creating sounds that simply should not exist. This utilitarian use of violent lighting equipment to create violent sound gave the entire set an odd sense of circular wholeness, combining the instruments of their intensity to create a newly consistent chaos. Members of The Serfs joined them on stage to perform the finale, which I believe was 2009’s Exploding Head closer “I Lived My Life To Stand In The Shadow Of Your Heart,” but by that point my ears were ringing so loud that I can’t quite be sure. My ears rang for the next 24 hours or so, and I probably should have worn earplugs, but when you go see the loudest band in the world, you want them to feel like the loudest band in the world. A Place To Bury Strangers fulfilled every promise their reputation had made.
