Rampant brutalism: Teeth Of The Sea live at Soup Kitchen

Soup Kitchen is the perfect home for Teeth Of The Sea. A concrete square down some concrete steps. Exposed brickwork. A neon sign that’s slightly too small for the space it occupies. Teeth Of The Sea make music spawned from the modern age. They soundtrack a dystopian life, a life you would never wish to witness. They make new things. They make shapes appear in front of you that you have never seen before, in colours you have never seen before. Then when the shapes have gone, you can’t remember what they looked like, just the feeling inside to have witness something so special and unique in a concrete box with a too-small sign.

Teeth Of The Sea were ripping the head off their latest album, WRAITH. The first track is death knell operating theatre intro ‘Our Love Will Destroy This Fucking World’ which segues us neatly into the dance track of WRAITH: ‘Gladiators Ready’ in which huge walls come forth to batter you into submission.

The first man has a laptop and some keyboards and wires. He programs shit and drum machines and does mysterious technological stuff.

A man wearing resplendent boots plays a pointy guitar and has more pedals than a BMW warehouse. He issues noises that run the gamut from metal twisting in extreme fatigue, to furious game boy battle chaos, to heavy dread vibes. When the dancing starts he occasionally kicks the stage, succumbing to basic motor functions??

The trumpet player. A king in a world of rust. Where the electro brings horror, the trumpet brings heart. Silver tongued streaks of beauty among the debris. Such melancholy pervades the work of Teeth Of The Sea, meaning their darkest music never gets bogged down in depression. He plays with such heart and soul that he spreads light over the dominion.

The set ends with the epic MASTER-piece ‘Responder’ which drugs (sic) you under with a low-level rhythmic thrumming before the universe expands before your eyes and a vastoid (sic) panorama of rave machinations hit in waves. Sweaty white dudes dance. Grown men freak.

Transmission ends/

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