Goblin at Texas Theatre, 4/27/14

Categories: Last Night

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Everybody that's seen Suspiria has an opinion about Goblin, whether they realize it or not. The Italian prog rock greats have, throughout their career, created some of the most captivating and unnerving music ever put to film. With their work on Suspiria, though, they made what is widely considered the most horrific film score ever produced, a cacophonous nightmare once described as the sound of "500 cats having their tails trampled on in unison."

It's a soundtrack you simply can't ignore, one of those musical rarities that approaches you, dives inside, and then remakes the way you understand music. Whether it's only for two hours or for a lifetime, for good or bad, you're altered. For many, this was the way they came to know Goblin, their gateway to a career's worth of prickly progressive rock. It's also one of the reasons, I suspect, that there's a line of 300 people waiting outside Texas Theatre an hour before show time.

In a fitting twist of fate, worthy of Goblin's aesthetic, Texas was on track to receive storms this weekend. Damaging winds, sheets of rain, lightning -- I worried that any or all of it might prevent me from seeing Goblin's set Sunday night. Like many of you, I spent the bulk of the weekend anticipating this concert. But because of the grim forecast, I spent the rest of the time waiting for the other shoe to drop. They spoke of tornadoes; I kept waiting for the thunder to roll in.

After a few scattered showers, the inclement weather never arrived. Thus, before I knew it, I was headed for Goblin and Texas Theatre. Once inside the venue, I'm met with a breathing mass of black, the trademark Goblin emblem is stamped on every other shirt in the crowd. This darkened tapestry of people gives the unorthodox feel of Texas Theatre a further nudge in an ominous direction. It seems everything is a pale shade of black, shadows jump and sway on each wall. The mood is strange but exciting; the sense of occasion is feverish.

Opener Pinkish Black kick things off with a crawl. It's the synth-heavy, heady metal we've come to expect from the local duo, only on this occasion much more narrow. Last time I saw them their heft nearly shook the beer from my hand. Tonight, they're but a fraction of their usual physicality, their weight of sound is de-weaponized, uneven. Luckily, the sharp mood of fatalism their music communicates still comes through, though, sadly, considerably muted.

A short opening set and one intermission later, and the audience has refilled the theater. Chatter, laughter and a thick tension break once Goblin make their way on stage. As the group man their instruments, a low, droning rumble begins to pour from the speakers. For a moment I thought it was the thunder finally rolling through. Only a few minutes in and it's the saddest thing ever: Goblin are flat and ineffectual. The music is beautiful, but benign. There's no bite here, no exhilarating thrill to thrash up against, just emotionally distant songs that swing in an atypically symmetrical fashion. Like witnesses to some museum exhibit, we sit (sit!) listening and watching, as block after block of music unfolds. It all feels a bit too neat and predetermined. Where's the sting? Where's the drama -- that guttural response Goblin consistently deliver on record?

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