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Words by Bill Kopp :: Images by Willa Stein
Legendary Pink Dots :: 06.22.06 :: Local 506 :: Chapel Hill, NC
Cutting a swath through the USA's eastern seaboard - mostly by way of tiny clubs - the Legendary Pink Dots spent a night in the dark, humid confines
of Chapel Hill's Local 506 with a near-capacity
crowd. And while capacity means only about 120 people in Local 506's case, LPD went to extraordinary lengths to
reach out to every single person in attendance.
LPD performed a roughly ninety-minute set that featured several tracks from their latest, Your Children Placate
You from Premature Graves. While the most consistent thing about the Dots' music is that it changes wildly
from album to album, this latest disc is among the group's most accessible efforts. In this live setting, the songs
took on a more organic, immediate feel. The Legendary Pink Dots' music this time around is an alluring combination
of melody and electronics, of song and experimentation.
Legendary Pink Dots ::
06.22.06 :: Local 506 |
With the sonic underpinnings of keyboard player Phil Knight (a.k.a. the silverman), consisting of multi-
layered, multi-textured loops, drones, and gurgling synth melodies, a trancey vibe was established. With no
drummer, responsibility for beats fell to the silverman, though oftentimes the cumulative effect of all the players
provided a suitable and effective beat without the need for actual (or ersatz) percussion.
Martijn de Kleer alternated throughout the evening on electric and acoustic guitars as well as bass. His
fret-work was a fascinating mix of rhythmic playing and fills - de Kleer's approach was not so much to solo as to
expand on the group's overall sonic attack. Vocalist Edward Ka-Spell was resplendent in a cassock and
scarf, rendering him visually evocative of some cross between John Lydon and Richard Butler of The Psychedelic Furs.
Ka-Spell's vocals ran the range from near-whispers to hypnotic chants and back again, often in a single song. The
musical emphasis was on playing songs rather than exploratory jamming, though the arrangements had enough air
to allow plenty of showcase solo spots.
Niels van
Hoornblower :: 06.22.06 :: Local 506 |
Most of those solos went to the engaging Niels van Hoornblower. He worked as hard at establishing
connections with the crowd as he did on playing his variety of instruments (including two saxes, flute, and a wind-
controlled oscillator/synthesizer). With his shaven head, square-frame glasses, and harlequin suit, he looked every
bit the part of a court jester. Making use of a wireless connection, he strolled out into the crowd - which parted as if
welcoming a prophet - and kept right on playing. On several occasions he leaned his instrument within inches of a
(usually female) fan's face as his lyrical notes poured out of the sax. Niels' playing - ace to begin with - only seemed
to improve from the effect of the positive vibes sent back his way from the audience. The rest of the group went
about the business of playing, not seeming to mind - or notice – van Hoornblower's interplay with the crowd.
The sound mix (provided by the group's own traveling sound man) was clear, well-balanced, and of a suitable
volume for such a small club. In fact, the Legendary Pink Dots were perhaps a (welcome) third quieter than openers
Veronique Diabolique, a goth/noise quartet with an amusingly fabricated back-story.
Lyrically, the LPD material was as dark as ever, occasionally reminding this listener of Final Cut-era Pink
Floyd. In a somewhat perverse (yet not unwelcome) turn of events, the chant on "No Matter What You Do," with its
terrified paean to an ominous god, became a crowd sing-along number.
Niels van
Hoornblower :: 06.22.06 :: Local 506 |
During the encore, as if to underscore the intimate communion the audience shared with the band, van Hoornblower
unhooked his saxophone's mic and played acoustically to the hushed, stunned crowd. And after the show, all four
members of the Legendary Pink Dots mingled with the crowd, back-slapping, hand shaking, and conversing
animatedly.
The group's love of playing for its own sake (and for the connection with sympathetic listeners) was palpable that
sultry night. For a band touring in celebration of its 25th anniversary as a performing unit, one might hope for a
grander reception than this - for more commercial success, for something greater than mere underground
admiration. But if the band held any of those concerns, they kept them to themselves. To a man they performed and
carried themselves as if there was nowhere in the world they would have rather been
than Chapel Hill's Local 506.
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