Bardo Pond @ Nambucca, 02/08/12

Arriving at Nambucca in Archway, London, we’re immediately greeted with the sight of Bardo Pond,  gracefully mingling with a squadron if excitable fans. This is the band we’re here to see; a clutch of musicians from Philadelphia that, since the early 90s, have been producing skull-crushingly heavy, yet serenely dynamic, psychedelic space rock on labels such as Matador, ATP and, most recently, Fire Records.

However,  before we can wrap our ears around some monolithic soundscapes, two support acts take to the stage. The first, Sans Pareil, spew a flurry of angular chords, fizzing bass lines and snarling vocals onto the transfixed audience. Their music can be best described as a melding of Sonic Youth circa EVOL and the post-punk experimentations of Swell Maps, a sound that’s amplified by the vitriol and untethered energy oozing from every drum beat, scurrying riff and wrenched yell.

Next up is Rumour  Cubes. Emanating from the same post-rock landscape as bands such as The Dirty Three, the collective sets about twisting spectators around its little finger with often-mournful twin viola salvos that seem to hover through the venue. Their affable on-stage demeanour assists the rapid connection being formed between band and audience, whilst highly-charged spoken word excerpts hoist the music into the realm of Slint. Two hours after our arrival, we’re now set for Bardo Pond.

They take to the stage amid a chorus of feverish anticipation. As the band insert earbuds for protection, it suddenly occurs to me that I could be letting myself in for more than I thought. This is confirmed upon the onset of their opener, a new song that suggests album number nine is approaching. It rips itself violently away from the huge speakers flanking either side of the stage and lands a knockout blow right between the eyes, causing a throb that refuses to fade for the remainder of the set.

The volume is unrelenting. Distorted riffs bleed from the guitars of brothers Michael and John Gibbons as a backdrop of seismic drum blasts and bass-laden feedback burn away at all sensory awareness. It’s all too easy to fall into the trap of hyperbole when attempting to describe a great live show, but Bardo Pond, in all sincerity, knock it out of the park. There’s a power to the music that demands the submission of its audience; an intensity that weighs heavily on the still frames trying to comprehend the maelstrom of sounds unfolding before them.

The set comprises a mixture of new, unreleased material and classic songs from the Bardo Pond discography, and it’s all great. One new number, titled Fur, grabs the throat and squeezes it tight throughout its seemingly never-ending duration, whilst staples such as Tommy Gun Angel deliver every ounce of the clout captured on record.

Should you ever be afforded the opportunity to catch Bardo Pond live, take it with both hands. As we leave the small, sweaty scene of the last four or so hours, our bodies feel drained and our minds flayed. Truly an immersive, visceral experience, a Bardo Pond show has to be seen to be believed.