The Antlers – Live

It’s a good little gig this music writing/photography thing. I get to see a lot of bands, many of who are new to me, and I find myself listening to styles and genres of music that I would otherwise know nothing about. It stops me getting stale (I hope) and I take it pretty seriously. I do my research. Which is why I spent the week before seeing The Antlers at the Belgrave Music Hall in Leeds on Sunday, November 2nd, immersing myself thoroughly in their back catalogue. So I knew what to expect. I’d got some phrases ready. Multi instrumental post rock. Mogwai with trumpets. A few more.

I’d never seen them live before but I didn’t anticipate any particular difficulties. Sometimes concert performances don’t quite come up to the standard of the studio recorded versions but The Antlers always seem to get good reviews. Words and pictures, no problem.

Except of course that The Antlers are one of those bands that like to play in the dark, alleviated only by the occasional wash of blue or deep pink, so that even at ISO 26000 and a bit with my trusty 50mm f1.4 pitch darkness emergency lens I struggled to get more that an blurred outline of some high cheekbones and a bit of quiff, something like a Victorian spirit image on a glass plate. No photography prizes tonight then, but on the other hand they seemed to suit the ethereal nature of the music quite rather well. So words and smudgy, ectoplasmic images. Fair enough.

Except that the words aren’t that easy either, not because The Antlers weren’t good (they were wonderfully good), but because all my research had not prepared me for music of such extraordinary quality that, to be honest, writing about it seems a bit fatuous. Dark, unsettling, melancholy, brooding, poignant. You can take your pick of adjectives but it’s the sheer intensity of the performance that takes the wind out of my reviewing sails.

At the centre of everything was Peter Silberman’s extraordinary voice, sometimes no more than a whisper, sometimes a falsetto, sometimes veering into torch balladry, it’s completely perfect and quite beyond my power to describe. When he turned away from the microphone he twisted and half crouched as if overwhelmed by the moment. Around him the band were almost motionless, stooping occasionally to pick up a trumpet or clarinet, the keys weaving in and out of the song while the horns, played one handed, added colour, depth and emotion.

The set list was mostly made up of new songs from Familiars with the addition of a few from earlier albums such as “Kettering”, “No Widows” and “Putting the Dog To Sleep”.

“You’re very quiet,” said Silberman and it was true. The full house stood in almost reverential silence. I’ve been at classical recitals where people were less respectful. When a late arrival entered a tad noisily the room shushed him and when I looked towards the back it was just a sea of gently nodding heads. From the stage it must have looked like a Serengeti anthill full of meerkats. Fan favourite “Kettering” was greeted with an outbreak of ecstatic whispering.

All of which is to say that The Antlers have now officially entered my top ten gig list, Familiars is on repeat, I still haven’t got used to the complex melancholy of it all and next time The Antlers are around I shall be at the front.