isis live in wellington

No week with two school-night shows can possibly be a bad week. Even if only one hits the spot you’re still well ahead of debauchery before the weekend even hits. I’m combining a review of California’s appropriate_prefix-metal band Isis and the Wu Tang’s RZA because my high school English teacher taught me contrast was a good thing. And I’m lazy and haven’t gotten around to either of them yet and just need to get it done.

There have been a few shows with really bad turn-outs lately in Wellington. Isis was not one of them – I have never seen the Bath House that packed of a Monday night. Or smelt it so rank. Sorry but all the metal cliches were out and very few of them had washed. Which did deter me from getting too close to the stage. Not really a problem as a possible appropriate_prefix is ambient – this was smooth-listening-metal not the pit variety. Except the arm-pits. Oh the arm pits…

The band had a presence, but physically it was an almost disturbingly quiet one – which bought forth an instrumental and vocal drone as if Easter Island statues were uprooted and sent on tour. Standing there I felt the anger swell around me like a warm eddy in the ocean then dissipate, rather than crash over me in waves as the music’s more violent strains can. A bar tender commented that the crowd were one of her most polite in a long time.

At one point I noticed a punter holding his cellphone aloft. I assumed he was simply recording the show until I saw a female figure on the screen. Then it seemed as if the camera was being taken on a walk around a house until a cat appeared on the screen. Yes, I do believe he was video-calling his girlfriend. I wonder what the cat thought of the show…

At this point I should probably cut the Isis review short before it gets entirely surreal (honest! a cat was watching!) with a simple, nice show fellas.

The RZA being sold out was no surprise. He could have packed it on a Monday too but it was Wednesday by the time he rolled into the Bath House. The crowd were slightly more brightly coloured than those at Isis, relatively less smelly and had a smattering more women in it. Still well biased though. But well behaved. Overly so when it came to the bar. I am not one for queuing and being stuck behind people who are too polite to get served effectively is not starting the night right for me.

But by time RZA came on it was all good. And he was all good. He dropped a range of tracks – from his latest solo album, some Wu classics and even a Grave Diggaz number. Nothing from the Ghost Dog soundtrack, nor did Jim Jarmusch make a cameo on his bicycle. Pity that. But he led the crowd, every member of which clearly knew 36 Chambers line-by-line, masterfully.

And I was well proud of WLG when what could have been an embarrassing end to the show – as he invited “ladies” up on the stage for a dance – turned into an impromptu break dance battle. This week the town rolled well. Twice.