Slift / Servo, Camden Electric Ballroom, London, February 2024 – In an uncertain world, entering Camden Electric Ballroom for the first time in an age and seeing it’s got exactly the same shape and patina and still a Proper Venue and you can use cash on the bar is a lovely ‘ahhh’ feeling, like waking up after a nightmare. The crowd is a delightfully diverse herd – I was expecting wall to wall stoners and battle jackets, and while there were plenty of those, the rest were a bunch of all sorts, the sign of genuine word of mouth in action. Support band Servo are finishing up and the venue is already decently full and sweaty and appreciative. ! catch enough of Servo to appreciate their driving, motorik bounce – they’re a perfect appetiser for Slift, sonically similar but down-to-earth and built on simpler, straight-ahead bones.
The materialisation of a rotating, cellular, hovering globe heralds the arrival of Slift onstage – three mysterious silhouettes, backlit by this fourth presence. What follows next is an near perfect (aside from the Electric Ballroom’s fairly muddy sound) work of unified sound and vision that does justice to Slift’s recent magnificent album Ilion.
This is exquisitely thought out, absorbing mahoosive rock. It’s the sum of several parts that fit together in a natural whole: the very authentic and very French type of cosmic science fiction that explores other and inner worlds, born out of the 70s work of French Humanoïdes Associés artists Moebius and Druilliet, matched with psychedelic guitar and synth textures. Guitarist/vocalist Jean Fossat also handles synth; rhythm section is his brother Rémi and long time friend Canek Flores on drums, and it’s an effortless synergy. And yes, there is a forth member, synched perfectly to the music – I can only assume Slift’s visual artist Guthio is there, manipulating the speed and look of the animation on the fly, unless he’s created some kind of automatically responsive sound feedback magic. Either way, it’s seamless and for the first two numbers – Ilion and Nimh from the new album – the packed crowd is swaying hypnotised. Ummon – from the 2020 s/t album is more driving and lysergic and sows the seeds of a proper pit before returning to the deeper, darker, tinglier Weaver’s Weft and Uruk from the new album.
Final two tracks encompass Slift’s big and slow and big and driving sides, initiating a proper bonkers moshpit and crowd surf at the end with the punkier roar of Lions, Tigers and Bears and The Story That Has Never Been Told. For all that they use ‘classic’ sounds – crunchy wah and cathedrals of swooping synth and lush guitar and Valium 10 forward movement driving bass, Slift sound absurdly fresh, as if they stumbled across a bunch of moogs and tube amps in a post apocalyptic cave and got to grips with it all and recreated just what we want to hear without any apology or interference. No wonder people travelled from all over for this. An absolute joy. (Marina O)
Previous Slift coverage
THE ORGAN 